BUCK 
HORSE 4 


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The  Black  Horse 

By  Carl  Louis  Kingsbury 


Published  by 

David  C.  Cook  Publishing  Company 

Elgin  Chicago  New  York  Boston 

Publishing  House  and  Mailing  Rooms,  Elgin,  Illinois 


Copyright,  1908, 

By  David  C.  Cook  Publishing  Co., 

Elgin,  Illinois. 


THE    BLACK    HORSE 


By  CARL  LOUIS  KINGSBURY 


CHAPTER  I. 


ON  THE  hot  August  morning  when  we  started  from 
Bald  City,  Oregon,  en  route  to  Tillamook  county  on 
the  Pacific  coast,  it  seemed  to  me  that  every  man, 
woman  and  child  in  the  city  were  on  hand  to  see  us  off. 
An  occurrence  that  was  by  no  means  impossible,  as  the 
city,  sprawling  untidily  over  its  adobe  flat,  was  small, 
and  our  outfit,  unhappily,  large,  and  the  eyes  of  all  turned 
disapprovingly  from  Lewis  and  Clark,  our  two  small  sorrel 
horses,  to  the  heavily  laden,  white  topped  wagon  behind 
them.  Uncle  Sumner  Logan  and  Cousin  Lizzie  and  I 
knew,  quite  as  well  as  the  best  of  them,  that  the  horses 
were  too  small  for  the  load,  but  there  seemed  just  then 
no  help  for  it. 

Uncle  Sumner  was  a  surveyor  and  even,  on  occasion, 
a  civil  engineer,  but  he  had  been  out  of  work  for  many 
painful  months,  on  that  hot  August  morning  when  the 
population  of  Bald  City  collected  to  stare  at  us  with 
accusing  eyes,  and  the  prospect  of  getting  a  good  position, 
could  he  present  himself  at  a  given  place  before  a  certain 
date,  admitted  of  no  delay. 

There  were  only  the  three  of  us  in  the  family,  or  at 
least  I  suppose  that  is  the  way  it  would  be  reckoned  by 
most  people;  but  Cousin  Lizzie  and  I  always  counted 
Otho,  the  collie  that  I  had  brought  from  my  Eastern  home 
with  me,  as  a  fourth  and  very  important  member. 


4  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

Excepting  Uncle  Sumner  and  Lizzie,  I  had  no  relatives, 
and  I  had  never  seen  either  of  them  until,  soon  after 
mother's  death,  I  had  come  out  to  live  with  them.  Moth- 
er's only  sister,  Aunt  Annie,   was  Uncle  Sumner's  wife. 

It  was  but  a  few  weeks  after  mother's  death  that  she, 
too,  passed  away  quite  suddenly.  So  that,  as  I  said,  we 
three  comprised  the  entire  family,  and  it  should  not  have 
proved  such  a  serious  matter  to  transport  us  to  the  desired 
point.  But  it  began  to  look,1  as  we  pulled  slowly  out 
of  Bald  City  that  morning,  as  though  the  undertaking 
might  prove  rather  a  serious  one.  For  one  thing,  in  his 
haste  to  be  gone,  uncle  had  packed  our  belongings  with- 
out much  regard  to  affinities.  The  kerosene  can  he  had 
placed  beside  the  sack  of  flour  that  was  to  have  been  our 
mainstay  in  the  way  of  provisions,  and  when  on  going 
down  a  steep  hill  the  can  turned  over,  pouring  its  contents 
impartially  over  the  flour  and  the  adjacent  grub  box,  it 
was  little  short  of  a  disaster.  Our  combined  capital 
amounted  to  just  two  dollars  and  seventy  cents,  and  it 
was  out  of  the  question  to  think  of  throwing  away  the 
kerosened  flour  and  buying  another  sack.  This  was  only 
one  of  many  little  incidents  that,  on  the  first  day,  gave 
hint  of  what  we  might  expect  in  the  future.  The  hints 
did  not  fail  of  fulfillment;  only  as  the  slow  days  dragged 
along  there  was  a  good  deal  of  variation,  amusing  or 
vexatious  as  the  case  might  be,  in  these  incidents  of  the 
journey.  One  of  these  variations — one  that  was  not  amus- 
ing— was  that  after  some  two  weeks  of  travel  the  horses 
showed  a  tendency  to  balk.  Yet  it  could  not  in  justice 
really  be  classified  as  balking,  either,  because  it  was 
usually  in  the  morning,  at  noon,  or  after  a  rest,  that  if 
the   notion   took   them  they  would  refuse  to   stir  a  step. 

It  seemed  as  though  they  were  discour'  ged  with,  as  it 
must  have  appeared  to  them,  the  long  and  objectless  travel 
up  hill  and  down,  over  roads  that  were  seldom  smooth 
and  never  level.  Uncle  Sumner  had  a  lively  imagination 
and  a  buoyant  spirit,  but  an  uncontrollable  temper.    Some- 


TEE    BLACK    HORSE.  5 

times  when  the  horses  stopped  he  whipped  them  savagely 
until  they  pressed  on  again,  as  they  always  did  sooner  or 
later — and  that  shows,  too,  that  they  were  not  really  balky. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  if  they  could  understand  that  we 
had  any  purpose  whatever  in  thus  crawling  along  all  day 
and  dropping  down  by  the  wayside  anywhere  at  night 
they  would  have  worked  with  better  heart. 

I  think  this  because  Lewis  had  a  way  of  hanging  back 
in  his  harness  until  the  ragged  collar  stood  up  around  his 
ears,  and  so  turning  his  head  back  to  look,  round-eyed 
and  astonished,  but  flintily  obdurate,  at  the  person  who 
was  beating  a  tattoo  upon  his  wasted  flanks.  Lizzie  had 
taken  to  walking  along  with  me  a  good  deal,  and  on 
those  occasions  she  would  get  behind  the  wagon,  out  of 
her  father's  sight,  and  shed  tears  of  pity  and  helpless- 
ness. For  it  couldn't  be  helped.  We  were  like  people 
who  had  embarked  in  a  leaky  boat  to  cross  a  stream;  we 
must  keep  on  going  or  sink.     There  was  no  help  for  it. 

The  horses  had  grown  fond  of  me,  and  sometimes  I 
could  coax  them  to  move  by  walking  backward  before 
them,  enticing  them  with  a  bit  of  bread. 

But  if  they  had  quite  resolved  to  stay  where  they  were, 
this  device  was  useless.  One  day  they  had  reached  this 
pass.  I  had  tried  coaxing  in  vain,  and  uncle  had  been 
whipping  them  both  impartially,  when  suddenly  he  threw 
down  whip  and  lines. 

"  Look  at  him  !"  he  cried,  pointing  to  Lewis,  who  had 
his  collar  well  up  around  his  ears  and  was  regarding  his 
persecutor  with  a  kind  of  scandalized  but  impersonal 
interest.  "  Doesn't  he  look  exactly  like  some  poor  old 
woman  with  her  cheap  cap  all  awry?"    And  indeed  he  did. 

Uncle  threw  himself  on  the  ground.  "  I  won't  whip 
him  another  stroke  to-day,  not  if  we  have  to  stay  here 
until  to-morrow  morning !"  he  declared. 

But  half  an  hour  afterward  when  he  gathered  up  the 
lines,  making  a  tentative  essay  toward  locomotion,  both 
horses  started  readily. 


6  TEE   BLACK    E0R8E. 

"  I  would  rather  be  whipped  myself  than  have  to  do 
this !"  uncle  would  say  at  times,  and  I  am  sure  he  was 
sincere  in  the  feeling  until  he  became  angry;  then  he  did 
not  care. 

He  tried  to  get  another  team,  but  we  had  only  the  guitar 
and  the  much  battered  sewing-machine  to  offer  in  ex- 
change for  them,  and  so  it  was  not  until  we  were  weeks 
out  on  our  journey,  and  had  at  last  come  into  the 
country  of  the  great  horse  ranches,  that  our  opportunity 
came. 

It  was  with  John  Steele,  who  owned  a  ranch  near  the 
little  post  station  of  Izee,  that  we  at  last  struck  the  bar- 
gain which  made  uncle  the  owner — I  thought  so  then, 
and  I  think  so  yet — of  the  most  beautiful  horse  that  I 
ever  set  eyes  on. 

The  little  daughter  of  the  house  was  half  sick  and 
wholly  querulous  on  the  Monday  evening  when  we  drew 
up  beside  the  ranch  house.  Uncle  had  a  habit,  with  an 
eye  to  business,  I  think,  of  getting  out  his  guitar  and  sing- 
ing to  its  accompaniment  every  pleasant  evening  after 
supper. 

Especially  would  he  do  this  if  there  were  people  near, 
and  it  invariably  resulted  in  their  gathering  around  our 
campfire.  The  little  daughter  of  the  house,  seated  in  a  big 
chair  beside  an  open  window,  heard  the  music  and  begged 
her  father  to  invite  the  player  inside,  which  he  did. 

After  playing,  uncle  made  his  usual  proposition  for  a 
trade.  Mr.  Steele  was  one  of  those  slow-speaking  men, 
and  before  he  could  get  a  word  out  the  little  girl  broke 
in,  excitedly: 

"  Papa,  please  buy  me  that  guitar !  I  want  it  awfully, 
papa,  and  mamma  wants  a  sewing-machine,  don't  you, 
mamma?"  She  appealed  to  the  woman  who  was  standing 
in  the  doorway.     The  woman  laughed. 

"  I  reckon  so,"  she  said,  indulgently.  And  that  settled 
it.  It  settled  it  so  effectually  that  uncle,  who,  now  that 
the  game  was  in  hand,   showed  a  thrifty  disposition  to 


THE   BLACK    HORSE.  7 

haggle,  was  offered  his  pick  of  the  entire  band  of  five 
hundred  horses. 

The  next  day  was  spent  in  rounding  up  the  horses  for 
uncle's  inspection,  and  his  choice  fell  upon  the  magnificent 
black  and  a  large  bay. 

Here,  however,  Steele  proved  obdurate.  "  You've 
selected  the  finest  horse  that  there  is  anywhere  in  this 
whole  country — ask  these  vaqueros  here — and  I'm  going 
to  let  you  take  him  if  you  say  so,  because  Edie's  ailing 
and  wants  that  do-funny  to  play  on.  But  I  can't  let  you 
have  another  horse  along  with  him.  I'll  tell  you  what 
I  will  do,  though;  I'll  let  you  have  any  common  pair  that 
you  will  pick  out,  instead  of  the  black." 

"  No,"  uncle  said,  "  I'll  take  the  black." 

The  sewing-machine  was  lifted  out.  Oh,  how  glad  we 
were  to  be  rid  of  it !  And  so  I  am  sure  were  Lewis  and 
Clark.  The  guitar  was  transferred  to  the  lap  of  its  new 
owner,  whose  thin  fingers  immediately  began  straying 
over  the  strings,  and  uncle,  who  among  his  other  avoca- 
tions had  once  been  a  famous  vaquero  on  a  horse  ranch 
in  Southern  California,  announced  his  intention  of  stay- 
ing over  one  day  for  the  purpose  of  "  gentling  "  the  great 
black. 

The  horse  had  not  so  much  as  one  white  hair  on  him, 
and  uncle  promptly  named  him  Midnight.  Midnight  was 
seven  years  old.  He  was  so  large  and  strong  that  the 
vaqueros  had  rather  shunned  the  task  of  breaking  him  in, 
the  more  especially  as  great  size  is  not  a  desirable 
attribute  in  a  riding  horse. 

Midnight,  king  of  the  range,  had  never  felt  the  touch 
of  a  rope  since  the  one  dark  day  in  his  early  colthood 
when  he  had  been  thrown  and  branded.  Now  he  was 
penned  up  in  an  unbreakable  enclosure,  and  a  human 
being,  rope  in  hand,  was  preparing  to  initiate  him  in  the 
useful  business  of  wearing  a  harness  and  pulling  a  wagon. 

It  was  early  on  Tuesday  morning  that  the  first  lesson 
was  to  be  given,  and  Midnight,  from  his  station  in  the 


8  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

farthest  corner  of  the  corral,  his  perfect  head  held  high 
aloft,  watched  with  absorbed  interest  the  slow  and  cau- 
tious approach  of  his  would-be  instructor. 

We  were  in  desperate  need  of  the  aid  that  the  black 
horse  could  give,  yet  as  the  day  wore  on,  my  sympathies 
were  irresistibly  drawn  toward  Midnight.  He  showed 
himself  wild,  shy,  rebellious,  but  not  in  the  least  degree 
cowardly,  vindictive  or  resentful.  Uncle  Sumner  proved 
himself  a  master  hand  with  a  lariat.  Standing  on  the 
ground,  without  the  advantage  of  throwing  from  a  saddle, 
at  the  first  cast  he  sent  the  rope  with  its  resistless  noose 
over 'the  proud  black  head,  and  taking  a  half  hitch  around 
the  snubbing  post  beside  him,  held  on  grim  and  silent 
while  the  great  horse,  trembling  and  snorting,  reared, 
pawed  the  air  and  struggled,  pulling  frantically  backward 
in  the  effort  to  free  himself  from  the  strangling  noose — 
the  noose  that  all  his  frenzied  efforts  only  drew  the  tighter, 
until,  exhausted  and  panting  for  breath,  he  fell  heavily 
to  the  ground  and  his  shining  black  coat  was  gray  with 
the  powdery  dust  of  the  corral. 

Then  uncle,  who  according  to  his  own  desire  was  doing 
the  "  gentling  "  unaided,  ran  in  and  loosened  the  noose, 
allowing  the  horse  to  recover  his  breath.  This  done, 
Midnight  was  instantly  on  his  feet  again  and  the  same 
struggle  was  repeated.  It  was  repeated,  over  and  over, 
until  nearly  noon.  Mr.  Steele  came  out  then  and  invited 
uncle   in   to   dinner,   an   invitation  which   uncle   declined. 

"  It's  the  very  essence  of  an  experiment  like  this  that 
the  horse  should  be  kept  at  it  from  the  first  until  he  gives 
in,  you  know,"  he  said,  in  excuse;  and  Mr.  Steele  agreed 
with  him.  "  If  you  do  stop  before  a  horse  that  you're 
gentling  has  found  out  what's  required  of  him,  he's  bound 
to  make  you  do  the  work  all  over  again  from  the  start, 
and  ten  to  one  if  he  doesn't  conclude  that  it  was  his  hold- 
ing out  that  made  you  stop  and  so  be  encouraged  to  hold 
out  the  longer  next  time,"  Mr.  Steele  added,  from  his  own 
experience.    It  was  but  a  few  minutes  after  this  that  Mid- 


THE  GREAT   HORSE   REARED  AND   STRUGGLED. 


10  TEE    BLACK    HORSE. 

night  mastered  the  first,  or  primary,  lesson.  Having 
learned  it,  it  was  fixed  in  his  mind  for  life. 

His  struggles  to  escape  the  rope,  furious  as  they  had 
been,  had  not  seemed  to  affect  his  great  strength,  or  even 
to  tire  him  much,  but  when  uncle  loosened  the  noose  for 
about  the  twentieth  time,  allowing  him  to  regain  his 
breath,  Midnight,  instead  of  rearing  in  air  and  renewing 
the  fight,  stood  perfectly  still  and  looked  at  the  rope  trail- 
ing from  his  neck  to  the  snubbing  post,  and  thence,  by  a 
running  hitch,  to  uncle's  hand.  Then,  lowering  his  head, 
he  sniffed  questioningly  at  the  rope. 

At  this  juncture  uncle  began  slowly  drawing  it  in; 
slowly  the  black  horse  followed  until  his  nose  was  against 
the  snubbing  post  and  uncle's  hand  was  laid  caressingly  on 
his  neck.  From  the  rope  his  great  soft  eyes  turned  to 
uncle. 

"  It's  all  right,  old  fellow,"  Uncle  Sumner  assured  him. 
"  Just  you  do  as  I  say,  and  we'll  not  have  a  bit  of  trouble." 

Then  he  ran  his  hands  over  the  horse's  dust-begrimed 
coat,  lifted  his  feet,  one  after  another,  and  even  opened 
his  mouth  and  inspected  his  teeth.  Midnight  made  no 
protest;  in  so  far  as  that  rope  was  concerned,  he  had 
surrendered. 


CHAPTER  II. 

I  HAD  been  sitting  on  the  corral  fence,  from  first  to 
last  a  keenly  interested  spectator,  and  now  uncle  called 
to  me: 

"  Come  here,  Sydney,  and  get  acquainted  with  our  new 
team." 

I  don't  know  what  it  was  that  made  me  feel  so  sorry 
for  that  horse. 

It  might  have  been  because  he  had  been  so  untamable 
and  fearless;  because  he  carried  his  head  so  high;  because, 
imprisoned  and  alone,  he  had  made  such  a  gallant  fight 
and  was  now  so  humbled,  and  I  thought  of  what  Lewis 
and  Clark  had  been  through  and  what  was  in  store  for 
him,  that,  ignoring  the  caution  with  which  I  should  have 
approached  an  unbroken  horse,  I  went,  in  obedience  to 
uncle's  invitation,  straight  up  to  Midnight,  threw  my 
arms  around  his  neck  and  buried  my  face  on  his  shoulder. 

I  was  bitterly  ashamed  of  the  tears  that,  despite  all  my 
efforts  at  self-control,  wet  my  cheeks  and  plowed  tiny 
furrows  in  the  dust  that  adhered  to  Midnight's  coat.  I 
was  ashamed,  and  I  had  a  forlorn  hope  that  uncle  would 
not  know  that  I  was  crying.  But  I  raised  my  head  again 
and  my  tears  were  instantly  dried,  while  I  stood  back  a 
pace,  as  he,  after  a  moment's  silent  contemplation  of  the 
tableau  that  Midnight  and  I  presented,  made  the  concise 
statement : 

"  Well,  you  are  a  fool,  Sydney  Rockwell !  You  had  bet- 
ter go  and  get  Lizzie  to  make  you  a  rag  baby  to  play 
with!" 

Uncle  had  a  habit  of  saying  things  that  were  like  noth- 
ing so  much  as  the  stinging  cut  of  a  whip,  but  I  forgot 
the  anger  that  came  over  me  in  a  surging  wave,  and 
even  he  was  silent,  when  the  horse— who,  turning  his  head 


12  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

to  watch  me,  had  not  taken  his  eyes  off  me  since  I 
touched  him — reached  out,  and,  after  sniffing  at  my 
clinched  hands,  began  softly  licking  them. 

"  Well,"  uncle  said  at  length,  "  we've  both  made  an 
impression  on  him,  it  seems.  It  remains  to  be  seen  which 
is  the  stronger."  Then  he  led  Midnight  into  a  corner 
of  the  corral,  tied  him,  and  put  before  him  an  armful  of 
hay,  which  Midnight  refused  to  eat,  contenting  himself 
with  gazing  at  it  thoughtfully,  apparently  regarding  it 
as  part  and  parcel  of  the  lesson  set  for  him  to  master. 
When  uncle  led  him  out  to  the  irrigating  ditch  beside  thQ 
road  to  drink,  he  followed  so  closely  that  the  rope  hung 
slack  between  them.  He  did  not  show  the  slightest  fear 
of  anything,  not  even  of  the  music  that  the  little  ranch 
girl  was,  by  this  time,  evoking  from  the  guitar. 

We  took  the  road,  or,  as  the  freighters  graphically  put 
it,  "  hit  the  trail  "  the  next  morning.  Uncle,  by  the  way, 
had  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  time  after  Midnight 
acquired  his  first  lesson  in  teaching  the  little  girl,  who 
was  clamorously  insistent  in  the  matter,  some  of  the  rudi- 
ments of  music. 

For  this  service  the  little  maid's  father,  who  seemed 
to  be  a  genial,  free-hearted  sort  of  man,  had  paid  him  ten 
dollars. 

Ten  dollars,  and  the  powerful  black  horse  to  help  pull 
the  load  ! 

Arden  now  seemed  close  at  hand,  although  the  Cascades 
were  yet  to  be  crossed. 

Uncle  did  not  immediately  attempt,  however,  to  utilize 
this  new  motive  power.  It  happened  that  the  highway  for 
several  miles  onward  from  the  Steele  ranch  was  rough 
and  rocky,  and  he  did  not  want  to  run  the  risk  of  Mid- 
night's doing  himself  an  injury,  as  he  might  if  he  took 
it  into  his  head  to  fight  on  such  a  road. 

So  we  went  on  as  usual,  save  that  I  was  leading  a  horse. 
Otho  had  at  first  been  disposed  to  resent  my  interest  in 
the  new  horse,  and  still  more  the  new  horse's  interest  in 


THE    BLACK    HORSE.  13 

me;  but,  as  the  day  wore  on,  his  attitude  toward  Midnight 
gradually  underwent  a  change,  and,  instead  of  the  gruff, 
resentful  bark  with  which  he  had  at  first  greeted  Mid- 
night's tentative  essays  toward  a  better  acquaintance,  he 
at  length  permitted  the  horse  to  come  close  up  to  him 
without  remonstrance.  Finally,  after  a  long  and  silent 
look  into  each  other's  eyes,  horse  and  dog  touched  noses 
and  a  declaration  of  friendship  seemed  to  have  been  fully 
ratified.     From  that  on  Otho  forgot  to  be  jealous. 

The  triumvirate  of  snow-clad  peaks  known  as  the  Three 
Sisters  loomed  before  us,  white  and  beautiful,  when,  soon 
after  our  short  noon  halt,  we  came  upon  the  stretch  of 
roadway,  level,  slightly  sandy  and  free  from  rocks,  where 
uncle  decided  to  make  a  trial  of  the  new  horse. 

The  sorrels  were  unharnessed,  and  Clark,  the  smaller 
of  the  two,  turned  out  to  follow,  while  I  helped  uncle  fit 
his  harness  on  to  Midnight. 

Midnight  made  no  objection,  not  even  when  Clark's 
ragged  collar  was — I  can't  say  fitted,  but  hung,  rather — 
around  his  neck.  He  merely  turned  his  head  to  look 
curiously  at  the  odd  leathern  contrivance  that  was  being 
fastened  upon  him,  but  he  evinced  no  fear  of  it.  Indeed, 
further  acquaintance  only  intensified  the  conviction  we  all 
had  that  Midnight  was  absolutely  fearless.  He  seemed 
too  proud  to  be  afraid  of  anything,  or,  as  it  afterward 
appeared,  vindictive. 

Poor  little  Clark's  harness  was  such  a  misfit  for  his 
giant  shoulders  and  mighty  girth  that  it  would  have  been 
laughable  to  see  had  it  not,  in  view  of  the  circumstances, 
been  so  pathetic. 

By  dint  of  lengthening  the  harness  out  with  rope  and 
bits  of  straps,  we  somehow  got  it  together  on  Midnight 
and  then  put  him  in  beside  Lewis. 

I  have  omitted  to  mention  one  peculiarity  of  the  sorrels. 
They  were  extremely  fond  of  one  another,  and  this  fact, 
while  useful  in  some  ways — notably  in  that  the  free  one 
would  never  stray  far  from  his  less  fortunate, mate,,  thus 


14  TEE    BLACK   E0R8E. 

enabling  us  to  turn  them  loose,  turn  and  turn  about,  to 
graze — had  its  drawbacks,  and  was  destined,  in  the  end, 
to  get  us  into  serious  trouble  with  Midnight. 

There  was  no  hint  of  this,  however,  on  that  first  after- 
noon when,  after  one  or  two  plunges,  followed  by  the 
discovery  that  the  wagon,  no  matter  how  he  tried  to 
escape  from  it,  remained  at  just  such  a  distance  behind 
him,  Midnight  settled  down  to  his  work  and  pulled  like 
a  hero. 

Uncle  Sumner  was  jubilant.  He  had,  with  a  share  of 
the  ten  dollars,  bought  some  hay  and  oats  at  a  wayside 
ranch,  and  that  evening  Midnight  still  further  completed 
his  satisfaction  by  eating  his  supper  with  a  relish. 

The  next  morning  Midnight  was  again  put  in  by  the 
side  of  Lewis.  Uncle  climbed  to  his  seat,  gave  the  word, 
and — Lewis  settled  back  in  his  harness,  refusing  to  stir  ! 
Worse,  when  Midnight,  recalling  that,  when  he  had  pulled 
on  the  previous  afternoon,  everything  followed  him,  tried, 
alone,  to  move  the  load,  Lewis  braced  his  legs  stiffly  and 
did  what  in  him  lay — and,  as  he  was  a  remarkably  strong 
and  sinewy  horse,  that  amounted  to  a  good  deal — to  hinder 
this  project.  Midnight  seemed  rather  puzzled  than  other- 
wise by  this  action — or  inaction — of  Lewis',  but  it  tran- 
spired that  he  was  learning. 

Uncle,  not  wishing  to  fret  or  excite  the  wild  horse,  got 
down  and  argued  the  case  with  Lewis;  imploring  him, 
for  his  own  good,  to  behave  like  the  gentleman  that  he 
was.  I  got  some  biscuit,  and,  holding  one  temptingly 
under  Lewis'  nose,  invited  him  to  come  on  and  be  fed. 
He  would  not  so  much  as  look  at  it;  he  wanted  his  mate 
beside  him,  and,  lacking  that,  would  do  nothing.  The 
sorrels  were  in  much  better  shape  than  they  had  been  the 
week  before.  The  wayside  feed  had  been  good,  and  they 
had  been,  for  the  past  three  days,  liberally  provided  with 
oats  and  hay.  There  was,  if  you  leave  out  the  question 
of  Lewis'  inconvenient  affection  for  Clark,  much  better 
ground  than  usual  for  uncle's  exasperation. 


THE   BLACK    HORSE.  15 

Blows  soon  followed  the  coaxing,  and,  after  every 
punishment,  uncle  tried  in  vain  to  induce  the  sorrel  to 
move  on.  After  two  or  three  futile  attempts  of  this  sort, 
Midnight,  too,  declined  to  try  to  move  the  load.  Soon  he 
did  more.  He  had  mastered  and  submitted  to  the  lesson  of 
the  rope,  but  this  was  something  different;  apparently 
there  were  two  sides  to  this  story. 

Suddenly,  as  uncle  was  again  striving  to  persuade  Lewis 
with  the  whip,  the  black  reared,  bounded  forward,  drag- 
ging the  wagon  after  him  and  Lewis  off  his  unwilling 
feet,  then  stopped  with  a  buck  jump  that  literally  shed 
the  flimsy,  rotten  harness  from  his  back — collar,  tugs 
and  all. 

It  all  happened  in  an  instant;  the  obstinate  Lewis  had 
not  regained  his  feet  before  the  black  was  free  save  for 
the  remnants  of  the  bridle  that  still  dangled  about  his 
head.  Uncle  sprang  to  catch  him,  but  Midnight,  with  a 
snort  of  defiance,  cantered  off  to  one  side  of  the  road  and 
stopped. 

Clark  had  been  left  to  follow  the  wagon  at  his  own 
sweet  will,  and  uncle  called  to  me : 

"  Catch  Clark  and  tie  him  to  that  tree.  Maybe  Mid- 
night will  go  up  to  him  and  I  can  catch  him." 

I  did  as  directed,  but  Midnight  did  not  care  for  Clark. 
He  cared  more  to  watch  for  the  next  move  in  this  curious 
business  of  civilizing  a  wild  horse.  He  did  not  try  to  run 
away,  but  simply  kept  out  of  uncle's  reach  and  watched. 

"  See  if  you  can  get  him,  Syd ;  he  seems  to  rather  like 
you,"  uncle  acknowledged  when,  hot  and  weary,  he  was 
forced  to  desist  from  the  fruitless  chase. 

"  I  don't  know  that  he  will  let  me  get  him,  but  I'll  try," 
I  said,  and  started  toward  the  horse  with  Otho  at  my 
heels. 

"  Here !"  uncle  called  after  me,  sharply,  "  leave  that 
dog  behind  you  and  take  a  rope." 

"  No ;  if  you  want  me  to  catch  him  you'll  have  to  let 
me  do  it  in  my  own  way,   uncle."     And  I   walked  out 


1G  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

toward  the  horse  with  empty  hands  and  the  dog  barking 
joyously  beside  me.  Otho  was  always  delighted  when 
I  left  the  beaten  roadway,  seemingly  anticipating  a  frolic. 
On  our  near  approach  Midnight  transferred  his  attention 
from  uncle  to  us.  Otho  ran  up  to  him,  making  little, 
playful,  upward  jumps  at  his  head,  and  I  held  out  an 
inviting  hand. 

"  Come,  Midnight,  be  a  good  boy  and  come  with  me." 

For  answer  the  horse  walked  up,  laid  his  head  affection- 
ately on  my  shoulder  and  returned  my  greeting  in  a  way 
that  seemed  to  me  irresistibly  comical,  it  was  so  like  a 
couple  of  friendly  Eskimos  rubbing  noses.  I  threw  my 
arm  up  over  his  neck — I  had  to  reach  high  to  do  it — and 
led  him  back  to  uncle,  who  received  us  with  an  ungracious 
grunt.  It  was  apparent  that  he  found  Midnight's  par- 
tially for  me  rather  mortifying.  As  uncle  fastened  a  rope 
around   Midnight's  neck,  he  said  to  me : 

"  It  looks  to  me  as  if  the  road  takes  back  to  the  river 
again  after  passing  that  clump  of  oaks.  Go  on  ahead  and 
see  how  it  is,  and  come  back  and  report.  If  this  is  the 
place  where  the  road  parallels  the  river,  we  don't  want 
to  take  any  risks  with  the  horses.  If  the  road  takes  to 
the  plains  again,  I'll  put  this  horse  in,  and  he'll  pull  or 
I'll  break  his  neck !" 

I  am  afraid  that,  in  view  of  this  threat.  I  was  not  sorry 
to  discover,  as  I  did  on  investigation,  that,  for  as  far  as 
I  could  see  down  the  winding  highway,  it  clung  closely 
to  the  overhanging  banks  of  the  turbulent  stream.  We 
were,  in  fact,  just  entering  the  long  and  narrow  canon 
of  the  Crooked  river. 

"  You'll  have  to  lead  the  black,  then,  until  we  come  to 
a  safer  road,"  uncle  said  when  I  returned  and  reported. 

We  then  mended  the  broken  harness  as  best  we  could 
and  put  Clark  in  beside  Lewis,  to  their  mutual  satis- 
faction, and  started  on  again,  with  the  difference  that, 
this  time,  Lizzie  confessed  to  feeling  tired  and  elected 
to  ride. 


THE    BLACK    HORSE.  17 

Crooked  river  is  a  clear  and  beautiful  stream,  but  I  did 
wish,  as  I  trailed  along  behind,  leading  Midnight  and 
watching  the  slow-moving  wagon  apprehensively,  that  it 
did  not  roar  so  loudly,  or  else  that  the  road  had  been 
laid  out  at  a  safer  distance  from  its  turbulent  current; 
which  could  hardly  have  been  done,  as  the  canon  walls 
of  black,  basaltic  rock  rose  sheer  and  grim  straight  up 
from  beside  river  banks  so  narrow  that,  in  many  places, 
it  had  been  found  necessary  to  blast  away  the  rock 
to  make  room  enough  for  the  single  wagon  track. 

Uncle  Sumner  was  a  careful  driver,  and,  whenever 
such  a  bit  of  roadway  was  encountered,  he  would  stop  the 
team  and  whistle  a  shrill  warning  of  our  approach  for  the 
benefit  of  anyone  who  might  be  coming  from  the  opposite 
direction. 

If  the  whistle  was  answered,  the  unwritten  code  of  trav- 
elers required  that  we,  who  were  going  down — *.  e.,  down 
the  river — should  turn  out  into  the  first  place  wide  enough 
for  teams  to  pass — such  places  were  provided  at  inter- 
vals by  hollowing  out  the  cliff  beside  the  roadway — and 
there  wait  until  the  coming  outfit  was  safely  past  us. 

We  were  well  into  the  canon  and  were  just  rounding 
the  shoulder  of  a  rocky  point  from  which  we  could  see 
that  the  road  before  us  had  been,  for  a  long  distance, 
blasted  out  from  the  face  of  the  cliff,  when  uncle's  shrill 
whistle  was  answered,  far  down  the  road. 

"There!"  cried  Lizzie,  in  dismay,  "  we're  just  hanging 
over  the  river  already,  pa,  and  there's  no  place  to  turn 
out." 

"  Yes,  there  is,  daughter;  we  passed  one  just  at  the  foot 
of  this  pitch.  Catch  hold  of  the  hind  wheel,  Sydney,  and 
guide  the  wheel  while  I  back  the  horses  down  hill." 

The  maneuver  was  successfully  accomplished,  and,  by 
the  time  we  were  all  safely  bestowed  in  the  rocky  alcove, 
the  wagon  was  close  at  hand. 

At  the  foot  of  the  hill,  the  driver,  a  rough-looking 
man,  who  seemed,  nevertheless,  particularly  well-fed  and 


THE    MANEUVER    WAS     SUCCESSFULLY    ACCOMPLISHED. 

18 


THE   BLACK   HORSE.  19 

whose  horses  looked  equally  sleek  and  prosperous,  stopped 
for  a  moment's  chat. 

"Going  over  into  the  valley?"  he  queried,  addressing 
uncle,  and  with,  I  could  not  but  observe,  an  admiring 
eye  on  Midnight.  "  Into  the  valley,"  by  the  way,  always 
meant,  as  we  found,  on  approaching  them,  crossing  the 
Cascades  and  so  on  down  into  the  valley  of  the  Willa- 
mette. 

"  Yes,"  uncle  replied.  "  Have  you  come  from  that 
way  ?" 

"  Just  came  across.  We  made  pretty  quick  time  for 
fear  the  snow  might  catch  us  before  we  got  across." 

"Snow?" 

"  Guess   you're  a  stranger  in  these  parts,   ain't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  am." 

"  Well,  sometimes  the  snow  comes  six  inches  deep  as 
early  as  the  last  week  of  August  on  that  McKinzie  road. 
You're  headed  for  the  McKinzie  road,  I  take  it?" 

"  Yes." 

"  It's  the  best  route ;  you're  all  right  so  far.  The  snow 
has  hung  off  uncommon  this  season.  Why  don't  you  hitch 
on  that  black  and  let  him  help  pull?  Your  horses  seem 
to  have  'most  too  big  a  load." 

"  Oh,  I'll  have  the  black  in  all  right  after  a  little," 
uncle  replied,  evasively.  "  But  about  the  road.  Do  you 
suppose  it's  been  snowing  up  there  since  you've  crossed?" 

"  No ;  been  clear  ever  since.  When  you  get  out  of  the 
canon  you  can  see  for  yourself  how  clear  it  is.  You  can 
see  Mount  Hood,  hundreds  of  miles  north ;  but  these  clear 
days  at  this  time  o'  year  are  apt  to  be  weather-breeders. 
Say,  do  you  want  to  trade  that  black?" 

"  No ;  he  isn't  well  broken  yet,  but  he'll  be  ready  to 
work  soon." 

"  He'd  better  be  gettin'  at  it  if  he's  to  help  snake  this 
plunder  over  the  lava." 

"What's  that?" 

"  Why,   after  you   reach   the   summit,   the   road   winds 


20  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

along  for  five  miles  over  a  ridge  of  lava.  It's  a  kind  of 
welt,  or  furrow,  laid  up,  instead  of  down,  in  the  crater 
of  an  extinct  volcano;  but  I  reckon  you'll  get  over  all 
right.  My  outfit's  camped  back  here  a  bit — we're  resting 
up  a  little  after  our  rush — and  I've  got  a  span  there,  well 
broke,  that  I'll  trade  you  for  that  black.  They're  smaller 
than  what  he  is;  just  what  you  want.  I  kind  of  like  his 
looks  and  I'll  trade  even." 

"No;  I  don't  care  to  trade." 

"  Want  to  trade  that  dog?" 

Uncle  looked  at  me  questioningly.  The  question  seemed 
to  me  so  preposterous  that  I  gave  no  sign,  and  uncle  said, 
rather  reluctantly,  I  thought:  "No,  no;  I  think  not." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  on  out  of  the  canon  to  look  up  some 
hay.  I  understand  there's  a  ranch  out  here  where  they 
have  baled  hay,  and  I  reckon  I  can  get  some.  Horses 
have  to  be  fed,  you. know."  Just  why,  at  this  point,  he 
bestowed  a  wink  upon  Uncle  Sumner,  as  if  he  were  tell- 
ing a  joke  that  was  far  too  good  to  keep,  I  did  not  at 
the  moment  comprehend,  but  comprehension  came  later. 
However,  Uncle  Sumner  seemed  to  understand;  he  smiled, 
rather  dubiously,   and   the   loquacious   stranger   went  on : 

"  We  were  out  hunting  yesterday  and  we  got  an  elk. 
You  better  stop  at  the  camp  and  ask  my  woman  to  give 
you  a  chunk  of  meat;  we  can  spare  it  as  well  as  not.  Tell 
her  I  sent  you.  We've  done  had  so  much  elk  meat  that 
we're  plum'  tired  of  it." 

So  much  elk  meat  that  they  were  tired  of  it,  and  we, 
who  were  good  hunters,  too,  had  been  glad  enough  to 
find  plenty  of  jack  rabbits! 

I  thought  that  uncle's  "  Thank  you,"  in  response  to  this 
friendly  suggestion,  sounded  rather  forced,  and  Lizzie, 
who  was  a  provident  little  camp  cook,  seemed  distinctly 
offended.  As  the  stranger,  after  again  urging  us  to  stop 
and  get  some  elk  meat,  went  his  way,  whistling  merrily, 
she  turned  to  Uncle  Sumner  in  indignant  protest: 

"We  don't  want  any  of  their  old  meat,  do  we,   pa?" 


THR    BLACK    HORSE.  21 

"  No,  my  dear.  When  we  eat  elk  meat  it  will  be  of 
another  kind.  We  aren't  helping  to  dispose  of  anybody's 
slow  elk." 

Lizzie  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  We're  having  trouble  enough  on  this  trip  without 
that,"   she  remarked,   sagely. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WHEN  it  came  to  a  knowledge  of  Western  things 
and  Western  ways,  Lizzie,  being  to  the  manor 
born,  always  put  me  to  the  blush ;  still,  I  greatly 
preferred  asking  her  for  information  on  any  subject  with- 
in her  range  to  asking  uncle.  When  we  were  once  more 
in  the  road  and  Lizzie  was  sitting  in  the  end  of  the  wagon, 
within  convenient  talking  distance,  I  got  up  close  enough 
to  inquire,  in  a  low  voice: 

"What's  wrong  with  a  slow  elk,  anyway,  Lizzie?" 

Lizzie  looked  at  me  in  surprise.  "  Why,  I  thought  you 
had  some  principle — "  she  was  beginning,  and  then  stopped 
with  a  little  laugh.  "  Sydney,  sometimes  I  forget  that  you 
are  nothing  but  a  tenderfoot.  You  don't  know  what  a 
slow  elk  is,  do  you?" 

"I   do  not." 

"  It's  cattle.  That  man  as  good  as  said  in  so  many 
words  that  he  had  been  killing  cattle.  He  didn't  say  slow 
elk,  but  he  knew  that  we  knew  that  there  are  no  elk  in 
this  part  of  the  country.  And  they've  been  making  a 
regular  business  of  killing  cattle;  they've  had  so  much 
beef  that  they  are  tired  of  it.  Slow  elk  !  U-ah !  And 
another  thing,  Syd:  when  anyone  tells  you  that  he's  got 
hold  of  a  woolly  deer  and  offers  you  some  of  the  venison, 
you  just  let  it  alone.  He  would  just  call  it  sheep  or 
mutton  and  be  done  with  it,  if  he  had  come  by  it  honest." 

Decidedly  Lizzie  had  good  sense !  I  was  thinking  this, 
admiringly,  as  I  walked  along  with  one  hand  on  the  end- 
gate  of  the  wagon,  the  other  holding  Midnight's  halter, 
when  the  wagon  suddenly  stopped  and  uncle  called  out, 
sharply : 

"Are  you  there,  Sydney?  Block  the  wheels,  quick!" 
At  the  same  instant  he  put  on  the  brake. 

22 


TEE   BLACK    EORSE.  23 

There  were  plenty  of  loose  stones  in  the  road.  Seizing 
one,  I  chucked  it  under  the  wheel,  but  neither  that  nor 
the  brake  sufficed  to  stop  the  wagon.  The  horses,  after 
pulling  the  wagon  almost  to  the  top  of  a  short,  steep  hill, 
had  stopped,  not  only  refusing  to  go  forward,  but  refusing 
to  hold  the  wagon.  They  backed  down  the  hill  with  it. 
There  was  a  sharp  bend  in  the  river  at  this  point,  the 
road  following  its  course,  but  some  thirty  feet  above  and 
almost  literally  overhanging  it,  was  very  narrow. 

It  was,  without  exception,  the  most  dangerous  bit  of 
roadway  that  we  had  yet  encountered  in  our  journey, 
and  it  was  here  that  those  horses  had  elected  to  stop  and 
refused  to  budge.  Seeing  the  uselessness  of  both  trig — 
as  teamsters  call  anything,  block  or  stone,  that  is  used 
to  check  the  descent  of  a  wagon — or  brake,  I  sprang 
upon  one  of  the  hind  wheels  in  a  vain  attempt  to  check 
the  downward  progress.  All  that  I  accomplished  was  to 
give  the  wheel  a  slight  turn  toward  the  inner  wall  instead 
of  allowing  it  to  keep  on  its  course,  which  was  already 
within  six  inches  of  the  sheer  edge  of  the  bank.  I  stood 
on  the  outside  of  the  wheel,  and  there  was  no  room  for 
me  to  land  on  the  ground  beside  it.  Below  me — beneath 
my  feet,  as  I  gave  one  horrified,  downward  glance — was 
the  river,  swift  and  cold.  If  I  retained  my  hold  on  the 
wagon-tire,  my  hands  would  be  crushed.  Even  in  that 
crucial  moment  I  thought  how  helpless,  what  a  burden 
I  should  be,  with  mangled  hands,  and,  loosening  my  grip, 
fell.  Fell,  for  nearly  six  feet,  to  land  unhurt  in  a  mass 
of  wild  grapevines  that  clung,  a  strong,  tenacious  net,  to 
the  face  of  the  cliff. 

Falling,  I  heard  Lizzie's  frightened  scream,  and,  above 
that,  uncle's  stern  command  to  her : 

"  Jump  !    Jump  for  your  life  !" 

Lizzie  was  as  nimble  as  a  cat;  she  jumped  promptly, 
landing,  like  a  cat,  too,  on  her  feet  in  the  middle  of  the 
road.  I  lost  no  time  in  scrambling  up  the  mass  of  friendly 
vines  that  had  saved  me.     The  wagon  had  slid  down  so 


I    LANDED    UNHURT    IN    A    MASS    OF    GRAPEVINES. 
24 


THE    BLACK    HORSE.  25 

much  farther  that  the  horses,  when  I  again  appeared 
in  the  road,  were  where  the  wagon  had  been  when  I  left 
it.  And  there  thev  stopped,  with  one  hind  wheel  half 
over  the  edge  of  the  cliff.  Lewis  turned  his  head,  regard- 
ing me  with  gentle  interest  as  I  scrambled  up,  almost 
under  his  belly.  My  appearance  in  this  manner  did  not 
disturb  his  equanimity,  but  he  was  so  interested  that  he 
forgot  about  balking.  Without  waiting  for  orders,  he 
gave  the  word  to  Clark  and  they  hauled  the  wagon  up  the 
hill  again.  Uncle,  who  had  sprung  to  the  ground  at  their 
first  symptoms  of  balking,  jumped  after  them,  caught  the 
lines,  and  managed  to  regain  his  seat  without  stopping 
the  wagon. 

Half  a  mile  fromsthe  spot  where  our  journey  had  so 
nearly  ended  in  disaster,  we  came  upon  the  camp  of  the 
hunter  of  "  slow  elk."  The  wife  was  a  full-blooded  Indian, 
and  she  and  the  half  dozen  half-breed  children  looked 
very  good-natured  as  they  stood  by  the  roadside,  watch- 
ing us  go  by — and  also,  I  am  bound  to  add,  extremely 
greasy. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  emerged  from 
the  black  walls  of  the  canon,  coming  out  on  the  plains 
again.  The  plains  looked  very  bright  and  cheerful  after 
so  long  and  dark  a  drive,  and  uncle  at  once  decided  that 
we  would  camp  there  for  the  night,  though  it  was  earlier 
than  we  were  accustomed  to  stop. 

While  I  unharnessed  and  cared  for  the  horses,  uncle 
went  down  to  the  river  with  his  shotgun  in  quest  of  some 
of  the  ducks  that  we  could  plainly  hear  quacking  over 
beyond  the  shielding  willow  hedge.  He  returned  soon 
with  no  less  than  six  fine  mallards. 

"  I  got  a  fair  shot  right  into  a  bunch,"  he  said,  exult- 
ingly;  adding,  "If  I  hadn't  got  them  the  first  time 
trying,  we  would  have  gone  without.  There's  the  track 
of  an  immense  cougar — a  perfectly  fresh  track — all  along 
the  river  bank.  I  wouldn't  meddle  with  one  of  them  for 
all  the  ducks  on  the  river." 


26  THE   BLACK    HORSE. 

I  helped  Lizzie  dress  the  ducks,  and  she  broiled  a 
couple  of  them  over  the  coals  for  our  supper.  Soon  after 
eating,  uncle  and  I  rolled  ourselves  up  in  our  blankets 
on  the  ground  beside  the  wagon,  and  Lizzie  went  to  her 
bed  on  the  inside.  According  to  our  usual  tacit  arrange- 
ment, uncle  lay  close  to  the  wagon  wheels  on  one  side, 
I  on  the  other,  and  Otho  on  the  ground  between  us.  Otho 
was  a  good  dog  and  a  brave  one;  that  was  one  reason 
why  we  slept  with  such  a  sense  of  security;  if  anything 
unusual  occurred  or  if  any  danger  threatened,  he  could 
be  trusted  to  give  a  prompt  alarm. 

Uncle  Sumner  always  slept  with  the  loaded  rifle  within 
reach  of  his  hand,  and,  whenever,  as  sometimes  happened, 
Otho  gave  an  alarm,  the  first  thing  one  could  see  would 
be  the  muzzle  of  that  rifle  cautiously  poked  out  from 
under  the  blankets. 

It  must  have  been  nearly  midnight  that  night  when 
Otho  gave,  not  his  customary  challenging  bark,  but  a 
sudden,  startling  yelp  of  terror. 

All  in  the  same  fraction  of  time  I  caught  the  glint  of 
light  along  a  raised  rifle  barrel  and  heard  Lizzie's  voice 
lifted  in  a  wild,  piercing  shriek.  When  we  had  turned 
in  that  evening  Lizzie  was,  to  all  appearances,  already 
asleep  in  the  wagon  and  in  perfect  security.  Now  her 
terrible  cry  arose,  close  at  hand,  it  is  true,  but  from  the 
direction  of  the  river ! 

Just  then  uncle  fired — fired,  if  I  may  say  it  of  so  in- 
tangible a  thing — at  the  scream.  I  got  to  my  feet  then, 
as,  kneeling  on  one  knee,  he  was  calmly  reloading,  and 
laid  a  trembling  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"Oh,  Uncle  Sumner,  are  you  mad?  Are  you  mad? 
You — you — " 

Uncle  Sumner's  large  eyes  glanced  briefly  aside  from 
the  raised  rifle  barrel  to  my  face;  even  in  the  dim  light 
I  could  see  their  questioning;  then  he  fired  again,  and 
Lizzie's  voice — from  the  wagon,  this  time — inquired, 
quaveringly : 


THE   BLACK   HORSE.  27 

"  W-wh-at  are  you — you — firing  at,  pa?" 

"  At  our  friend  the  cougar;  didn't  you  hear  him  scream? 
He  came  up  so  close  and  so  silent  that  I  think — " 

Well  might  he  break  off  in  amazement.  From  out  the 
dusky  wall  of  night  surrounding  us,  a  half  dozen  horse- 
men suddenly  appeared;  they  were  scattered  out  in  a  wide 
semicircle,  and  all  came  to  a  halt  within  a  few  feet  of 
the  wagon.  The  foremost  of  them  carried  a  gun,  and 
this  gun  was  accurately  trained  on  uncle's  head  as  its 
owner  observed: 

"  It's  useless  for  you  to  resist ;  we've  trailed  you  straight 
from  the  Sisters  here !  Hold  up  your  hands !  You,  too, 
youngster !" 

Uncle  Sumner  and  I  promptly  complied  with  this  re- 
quest, enforced  as  it  was  in  my  case  by  a  second  gun  in 
the  hands  of  another  of  the  party. 

"  You're  making  a  big  mistake  of  some  sort,  that's 
sure,"  uncle  remarked,  as  some  of  the  men  dismounted 
and  began  a  rapid  search  of  our  persons,  for  concealed 
weapons,  probably,  as,  after  the  search  was  concluded,  the 
first  horseman  gave  the  curt  direction: 

"  That  will  do,  boys.     Tie  their  hands  behind  them." 

I  suppose  that  Lizzie,  who  was  still  in  the  wagon,  and 
who  was  never  at  any  time  backward  in  desiring- to  know 
the  reason  for  things,  had  been  too  dumfounded  to  speak, 
up  to  this  point,  but  now  her  voice  was  heard  in  indignant 
protest : 

"  What  on  earth  do  you  think  you  are  doing,  anyhow?" 
she  demanded,  springing  to  the  ground  and  facing  the 
circle.  "  What  are  you  trying  to  tie  up  pa  and  Sydney 
for?  Here,  I  won't  have  it!"  And,  suddenly  lowering 
her  head,  she  butted — if  I  may  be  pardoned  the  word, 
since  no  other  will  describe  the  action — into  the  expanded 
and  capacious  front  of  the  now  dismounted  leader. 

So  unexpected  and  vigorous  was  her  onslaught  that  the 
man  actually  reeled  backward.  To  save  himself  from  fall- 
ing, he  caught  at  Lizzie;  neither  lost  a  footing,  but  the 


28  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

action  dragged  Lizzie  into  the  circle  of  light  cast  by  the 
smouldering  campfire,  then — "  Why,  hello !"  he  exclaimed. 
"Smith,  you  said  that  cattle  thief  had  an  Indian  wife; 
this  girl  is  no  half-breed — " 

"  No,  I'm  not !" — Lizzie  agreed  with  him  with  em- 
phasis— "  neither  is  that  boy  !" 

"  I  told  you  that  you  were  making  a  mistake,"  uncle 
calmly  reminded  him. 

The  men  who  had  been  tying  us  desisted  with  the 
work  half  done,  and  turned  to  throw  some  of  the  piled-up 
sagebrush,  ready  to  hand,  on  the  campfire.  The  brush 
flamed  up  in  an  instant,  and  uncle,  stepping  out  into  the 
glare  of  light,  inquired: 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  cattle  thief?"  And  I,  for  one,  could 
not  but  think  that,  if  cattle  thieves  looked  at  all  as  he 
did,  they  must  be  an  exceptionally  fine-looking  class  of 
men.  Apparently  the  opinion  of  our  visitors  somewhat 
coincided  with  mine.  The  leader  at  once  offered  sincere 
and  profuse  apologies,  agreeing,  in  his  embarrassment, 
to  pay  any  "  damages  "  that  uncle  might  see  fit  to  assess 
against  him  on  account  of  the  mistake. 

Uncle  Sumner  laughed,  good-naturedly,  declaring  that 
it  was  all  right,  and  the  leader  explained: 

"  You  see,  we  thought  for  sure  that  this  was  the  outfit 
we  are  after.  They've  been  killing  cattle  and  stealing 
hay  and  grain  across  the  country  for  two  or  three  hundred 
miles.  Word  came  to  us  that  they  were  in  the  Crooked 
Canon.  This  ain't  the  canon,  but  it's  so  nigh  it  that  we 
made  sure  we'd  run  our  game  to  earth." 

"  You  are  a  brave  girl,  as  I  know  to  the  discomfort  of 
my  stomach,"  he  said,  approaching  Lizzie,  and  his  smile 
revealed  a  gleam  of  white  teeth.  "  Please  accept  this  as 
a  memento  of  our  brief  but  emphatic  meeting."  And  he 
dropped  into  Lizzie's  half  reluctant  hand  something  that 
shone  brightly.  Then,  wishing  us  all  good  speed  and  good 
luck,  he  sprang  into  the  saddle  and  clattered  away  after 
the  rest  of  his  party. 


THE    BLACK    HO  RISE.  29 

I  threw  some  more  brush  on  the  fire  and  the  three 
of  us  bent  over  it  to  examine  the  thing  that  Lizzie  held 
in  her  hand. 

The  thing  was  a  gold  nugget  with  a  hole  drilled  through 
it  for  attaching  it  to  a  chain.  It  must  have  had  consider- 
able commercial  value  aside  from  that  as  a  souvenir.  But 
it  was  as  a  souvenir  that  it  appealed  to  Lizzie. 

We  were  all  astir  early  the  next  morning,  and,  as  the 
road  was  good,  uncle  decided  to  make  another  trial  of 
the  black  horse. 

The  horses  had  been  picketed  out  in  a  little  ravine, 
partially  out  of  sight,  and  I  had  considerable  fear  that 
they  might  all  have  been  stampeded  by  the  cougar.  How- 
ever, they  were  all  three  where  I  had  left  them  on  the 
previous  evening,  and  Midnight,  who,  by  this  time,  made 
no  secret  of  his  preference  for  me,  greeted  me  with  his 
usual  low  whinny  of  recognition. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ON  THIS,  the  second  occasion  of  harnessing,  Mid- 
night varied  the  program  by  refusing  to  move  at 
all,  whereas  he  had,  at  first,  willingly  undertaken 
to  do  all  the  work. 

"  Perhaps  he  will  do  better  if  I  put  him  on  in  front," 
uncle  said,  after  a  half  hour  had  been  spent  in  futile 
efforts  to  get  the  black  horse  to  help  Lewis,  who  now 
showed  a  willingness  to  pull.  Accordingly  Clark  was  put 
back  into  his  old  place,  and  Midnight,  girded  with  the 
ropes  and  straps  that  formed  an  impromptu  harness,  was 
hitched  on  to  the  end  of  the  wagon  tongue.  When  Lewis 
and  Clark,  in  obedience  to  the  signal,  started,  Midnight 
whirled  about  until  he  faced  them;  then,  as  they  butted 
into  him,  he  reared  high  in  the  air  and  fell  back,  coming 
back  on  their  shoulders  and  forcing  them  to  their  knees. 

For  an  instant  there  was  a  wild  tangle  of  fallen  horses, 
creaking  wagon  tongue  and  snapping  harness,  all  jumbled 
together  in  the  dust.  Then  all  three  horses  sprang  to 
their  feet,  and  Midnight,  shedding  bits  of  broken  rope 
and  straps,  as  he  stood,  cast  an  inquiring  eye  on  uncle, 
apparently  demanding,  "What  next?" 

Uncle,  who  had  restrained  himself  so  far,  because  his 
knowledge  of  horses  told  him  that  to  punish  this  unbroken 
animal  at  the  outset  was  to  spoil  him  entirely,  was  furious. 

In  the  wagon  was  a  large  stick,  part  of  a  broken  wagon 
bow.  Snatching  this,  he  started  toward  the  horse  with  it 
in  his  hand;  but,  before  he  could  reach  Midnight,  Lizzie's 
hand  was  on  his  arm. 

"  Please  don't  whip  him,  pa;  he  doesn't  know  any  bet- 
ter; and  oh,  I  wish  you  had  traded  for  that  team!" 

Poor  Lizzie !  If  she  had  but  left  the  last  words  un- 
spoken !     The  implication  that  he  had,  perhaps,  made  a 

30 


THE   BLACK    HORSE.  31 

mistake  in  not  trading  for  a  span  of  trained  horses,  made 
the  punishment  that  uncle  now  dealt  out  to  Midnight  all 
the  more  severe.  The  end  of  it  was  that,  in  the  course 
of  his  struggles  to  escape  the  rain  of  blows,  Midnight 
freed  himself  entirely;  then,  never  taking  his  eyes  off  the 
man  who  had  been  beating  him,  he  backed  swiftly  out  of 
reach. 

After  another  fruitless  effort  to  catch  Midnight  him- 
self, uncle  was  again  obliged  to  call  on  me.  As  before, 
I  caught  him  without  difficulty,  and  again  the  harnessing 
and  the  subsequent  whipping  was  repeated.  Uncle  said 
that  the  horse  should  help  to  pull  the  load  that  morning; 
it  was  deplorably  evident  that  the  horse  had  decided  to 
the  contrary.  He  escaped  this  time  by  deliberately  bit- 
ing, tearing  and  trampling  on  the  poor  harness  that  we 
had  manufactured  for  him.  These  frequent  furious  strug- 
gles in  the  dust,  as  well  as  his  scanty  rations — for  he 
would  scarcely  touch  the  food  placed  before  him — had 
sadly  dulled  the  glossy  sheen  of  his  black  coat,  and  his 
frame  showed  little,  increasing  hollows  where  none  had 
been  a  few  days  before ;  but  the  haughty  pose  of  his  head, 
the  air  of  proud  aloofness  with  which  he  held  himself, 
had  never  changed  or  lessened. 

"  Catch  him  !"  uncle  said  to  me,  briefly.  I  obeyed,  but 
slowly.  Uncle  did  not  look,  at  the  moment,  a  man  to  be 
trifled  with ;  and  Lizzie,  in  spite  of  her  undoubted  courage, 
had  crept  into  the  wagon  and  was  lying  with  her  head 
buried  under  the  bedclothes.  Still  looking  at  Midnight, 
who  trusted  me,  I  ventured  a  remonstrance. 

"  Please  don't  whip  him  any  more,  Uncle  Sumner.  I 
will  walk  all  the  rest  of  the  way,  and  I  can  help  push  the 
wagon  up  the  hills — " 

"  So  can  I !"  came  a  muffled  voice  from  the  wagon. 

"  Are  you  running  this  outfit  ?"  uncle  asked  me,  in  an 
ominously  calm  voice. 

"No,  but—" 

"  Catch  that  horse,  then  !" 


32  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

I  caught  him,  and  the  same  scene  was  repeated;  uiily, 
this  time,  the  ridges  and  welts  that  gridironed  Midnight's 
coat,  telling  where  the  blows  had  fallen,  were  accentuated 
by  a  gash  over  one  eye.  The  blood  oozed  slowly  from 
this  wound,  half  obscuring  the  bright  eye  that  yet  kept 
an  observant  and  fearless  watch  on  this  strange,  new 
creature  whose  pleasure  it  was  to  inflict  pain.  He  had 
freed  himself  quickly  this  time. 

"Catch  him!"  uncle  commanded,  at  the  same  time  pro- 
viding himself  with  a  fresh  stick.  But  my  mind  was  made 
up,  and,  in  my  way,  I  was  perhaps  as  stubbornly  im- 
movable as  Midnight  himself. 

"  You  can  never  do  anything  with  Midnight  by  whip- 
ping him,  Uncle  Sumner.  I  do  not  like  to  see  him 
whipped,  either.  I  am  very  sorry  to  disobey  you,  but  I 
cannot  catch  him  again  unless  you  promise  not  to  whip 
him." 

Uncle's  face  went  from  red  to  white,  and  from  white 
to  red  again.  For  a  breathless  instant  he  looked  as  if  he 
would  use  on  me  the  stick  that  he  had  just  cut.  Then 
he  broke  into  a  short,  harsh  laugh. 

"  Very  well.     I  promise.     Catch  him  !" 

When  I  had  done  so,  uncle  whipped  him  until  Midnight 
broke  away.  Uncle  had  been  so  eager  to  demonstrate 
how  little  weight  a  promise  made  to  me  had  with  him,  that 
he  failed  to  take  the  slightest  precaution  in  securing  the 
horse,  but  began  beating  him  as  soon  as  he  was  within 
range. 

As  Midnight  backed  away,  uncle  turned  savagely  to  me. 

"  Get  that  horse,  instantly  !" 

"No,"  I  said. 

The  horse  had  trusted  me.  Once,  twice,  three  times 
had  his  trust  been  betrayed.  That  was  enough.  Often 
since,  in  recalling  the  occurrences  of  that  day,  I  have  been 
constrained  to  confess  to  a  feeling  of  sympathy  for  Uncle 
Sumner. 

It  was  not  for  uncle  that  I  felt  sorry  as  he  strode  up 


TEE    BLACK    EORSE.  33 

to  me  and  laid  a  hand  on  my  shoulder.  Rather  I  thought 
irrelevantly  of  my  blistered  heels,  of  Otho's  cactus-pierced 
feet,  of  Lizzie's  ragged  dress,  of  the  gaunt,  overworked 
team,  and  then  I  looked  at  Midnight,  with  the  blood  drip- 
ping slowly  down  his  forehead,  and  my  heart  burned 
within  me  in  hot  rebellion  as  uncle,  clutching  my  shoulder 
in  a  vise-like  grip,  repeated: 

"  Get  that  horse  and  bring  him  here,  instantly !" 

"  No,"  I  said  again,  and  I  was  conscious  of  a  wish  that 
he  might  know  how  completely,  in  my  case,  no  meant  no; 
just  that,  neither  more  nor  less. 

"  You  see,  Sydney,"  uncle  said,  in  a  curiously  calm 
voice,  but  tightening  his  grip,  "  I've  got  to  break  that 
horse  in,  and  you've  got  to  help,  as  far  as  catching  him 
goes.     Will  you  do  it?" 

"  I  will  not." 

The  blows  rained  upon  me  as  fast  and  furious  as  they 
had  rained  on  the  horse — and  I  took  them  with  as  much 
stubbornness.  He  might  have  killed  me,  there  and  then, 
and  I  should  have  made  no  sign.  So  much  for  matching 
inflexibility  of  purpose  against  an  uncontrollable  temper. 

It  was  Lizzie,  of  course,  who  brought  the  disgraceful 
scene  to  a  close — Lizzie  and  Otho,  whose  gallant  and 
determined  efforts  to  bite  uncle's  ankles  were,  I  apprehend, 
sometimes  successful,  in  spite  of  an  occasional  kick  that 
sent  him  reeling.  I  received  a  blow  on  the  head  that 
partially  stunned  me.  As  I  staggered,  nearly  falling,  I 
was  conscious  of  a  flutter  of  skirts  and  of  outstretched, 
appealing  hands  thrust  between  me  and  the  man  who  was 
beating  me;  then  Lizzie's  voice — low,  intense  and  com- 
manding— came  like  a  restraining  hand  laid  on  the  tumult 
of  angry  passions  to  curb  and  silence  them. 

"  Father,  for  your  own  sake,  for  mine,  remember  what 
you  are  doing !  He  was  coming  to  mother,  not  to  you  ; 
he  is  mother's  nephew,  not  yours  !" 

"  I  am  glad  of  that !"  uncle  exclaimed,  and  threw  down 
the  stick. 


34  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

"  You  have  no  right  to  whip  Sydney,"  Lizzie  went  on. 
"  And  the  outfit  is  his,  you  know  it  is;  we  are  his  guests; 
he  is  not  ours.  If  he  does  not  want  your  horse  hitched 
in  with  his,  he  has  a  right  to  refuse  to  help  you." 

Brave  little  Lizzie !  She  loved  her  father  dearly,  but 
she  had  an  unconquerable  sense  of  justice. 

"  I  don't  care  if  the  outfit  belongs  to  him  fifty  times 
over !  He'll  catch  that  horse  before  he  comes  another 
step  with  us  !" 

As  uncle  spoke  he  began  picking  up  the  broken  bits  of 
rope  and  tossing  them  into  the  wagon.  Having  finished 
picking  up  the  harness,  he  climbed  into  the  wagon  and 
gathered  up  the  lines,  and  I  sat  down  by  the  roadside. 
Then  Lizzie,  who  had  again  taken  her  seat?  in  the  wagon, 
where  she  sat  silently  observant,  sprang  out  and  came  to 
my  side. 

"  You  will  get  Midnight  and  come  on,  won't  you,  Syd- 
ney?" she  coaxed,  as  she  knelt  in  the  dust,  peering  into 
my  face. 

"  No,  Lizzie,  I  will  not  catch  that  horse  for  your  father 
to  whip  again ;  he  and  I  have  had  about  enough,  I  think," 
I  returned,  sullenly. 

"  But,"  Lizzie  persisted,  with  a  coaxing  hand  on  my 
shoulder,  "  you  can't  stay  here  alone,  this  way,  Sydney. 
You  have  nothing  to  eat,  you  and  Otho.  You  wouldn't 
like  him  to  go  hungry,  even  if  you  did  go  hungry  your- 
self." 

"  Never  mind  about  us.  Your  father  is  calling  you ; 
don't  keep  him  waiting  or  he  may — "  I  am  glad  to  remem- 
ber that  I  had  the  grace  to  check  myself  there  and  not  to 
add,  as  was  on  the  tip  of  my  tongue — "  whip  you." 

In  his  way — a  way  that  exposed  her  to  many  hard- 
ships— uncle  was  always  kind  to  Lizzie.  Lizzie  went  back 
to  the  wagon  in  tears,  and  I  kept  my  station  beside  the 
road  while  the  wagon  forged  slowly  ahead. 

From  this  attitude  of  dejection  I  was  roused  by  a  gruff 
bark  from  Otho,  who  sat  beside  me,  watchfully  observant 


I     WAS    ROUSED    BY    A    GRUFF    BARK    FROM    OTHO. 
35 


36  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

of  all  that  passed.  Looking  up  to  see  what  had  claimed 
his  attention,  I  saw  Lizzie  leaning  far  out  of  the  end  of 
the  wagon  waving  her  handkerchief  to  me.  In  one  hand 
she  was  holding  a  gun,  and,  as  soon  as  she  saw  that  she 
had  my  attention,  she  dropped  the  gun  in  the  road,  after 
it  she  threw  the  belt  full  of  cartridges  and  a  package 
done  up  in  paper.  The  gun  and  the  cartridges  were  mine. 
I  walked  slowly  down  the  road  and  picked  them  up.  The 
little  package  contained  salt  and  matches.  Lizzie  had 
made  sure  that  we  need  not  starve.  We  were  now  in 
a  locality  where  jack  rabbits  were  plentiful;  it  would  be 
different  when  the  lava  was  reached.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
I  understood  quite  well  that  Uncle  Sumner  could  have 
had  no  real  intention  of  abandoning  me;  he  merely  meant 
to  enforce  his  command.  He  knew  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  the  horses  to  outwalk  me  within  a  reasonable 
time,  should  I  come  on  after  them,  as  he  confidently 
expected  that  I  would.  It  was  in  that  confident  expecta- 
tion that  he  had  made  a  mistake. 

Having  secured  the  gun  and  belt,  I  left  the  road,  turn- 
ing off  into  a  little  gully  that  led  away  from  the  river, 
for  the  recollection  of  the  cougar  was  still  strong  upon  me, 
and  was  soon  out  of  sight,  though  not  out  of  sound,  of  the 
road.  Then,  throwing  myself  down  on  the  warm  sand, 
I  gave  myself  up  to  the  bitterness  and  shame  that  filled  my 
heart. 

Nature's  ministrations  are  gentle.  By  imperceptible 
degrees  the  peaceful  silence  soothed  me.  Otho  crept  close, 
laying  his  head  on  my  shoulder,  and  so,  after  a  long  time, 
we  both  fell  asleep.  At  least  I  know  that  I  slept;  one 
could  never  be  quite  sure  of  Otho  because,  if  his  eyes 
were  closed,  his  ears  were  always  alert.  Once  I  was 
partially  roused  by  his  moving  and  shifting  his  position, 
and,  half  opening  my  eyes,  I  saw  him  sitting  with  up- 
raised head,  listening  intently.  Then  I,  too,  heard  the 
faint  sound  of  horses'  footfalls  in  the  distant  roadway, 
but  there  was  no  sound  of  a  wagon.     The  footfalls  died 


THE   BLACK   HORSE.  37 

away  in  the  distance,  taking  the  same  route  that  the 
wagon  had  followed.  Glad  that  we  were  out  of  sight,  I 
closed  my  eyes  again;  but  the  passing  teamster,  traveling 
without  a  wagon,  had  more  to  do  with  me  than  I  then 
knew,  for  it  was  undoubtedly  Henry  Murdock  and  his 
horses  on  their  way  over  to  Euclid;  I  was  to  hear  about 
him  later. 

Our  rest  on  the  previous  night  had  been  disturbed,  and 
now  I  slept  long  and  peacefully;  it  was  well  for  my  mental 
poise  that  I  did.  Late  in  the  afternoon  I  awoke,  stiff  and 
sore  from  the  beating  that  I  had  had,  but,  withal,  desper- 
ately hungry.  This  trouble  was  soon  remedied.  Before 
I  was  fairly  on  my  feet  I  saw  a  rabbit  scurrying  up  the 
side  of  the  gully,  and,  a  few  minutes  afterward,  that  rabbit 
and  another  one,  both  young  and  both  cottontails,  were 
broiling  over  a  greasewood  fire,  and,  when  cooked,  both 
were  impartially  divided  between  Otho  and  myself. 

Hunger  appeased,  I  set  about  preparing  camp  for  the 
night.  I  had,  by  this  time,  fully  made  up  my  mind  that 
I  would  not  go  on  after  the  outfit;  uncle  might  keep  them 
if  he  wished.  I  had  no  doubt  that  Midnight  had  started 
back  to  his  old  home,  so  that  there  were  only  Otho  and 
myself  to  consider.  In  the  morning,  I  decided,  I  would 
go  on  down  to  Sisters  and  wait  there  for  an  opportunity 
to  get  back  to  Bald  City  with  some  returning  teamster. 

Behind  a  pile  of  rocks  jutting  out  from  the  side  of  the 
gully,  I  found  a  clean,  little,  sheltered  nook,  almost  like 
a  cave. 

"  Just  the  place  for  us,  Otho !"  I  said,  and  set  about 
gathering  a  lot  of  greasewood  and  piling  it  beside  the 
rocks.  I  knew  that,  if  the  cougar  should  return  during 
the  night,  he  would  keep  his  distance  if  there  was  a  good 
fire.  Otho  helped  to  the  best  of  his  ability  by  seizing  hold 
of  a  loose  sagebush  and  dragging  it  in,  depositing  it 
gravely  on  the  pile  with  mine,  and  then  going  back  for 
another.  Between  us  we  soon  collected  a  big  pile.  Then 
I  killed  and  cooked  another  rabbit,  and,  as  darkness  fell, 


38  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

we  ate  our  suppers — finding  one  rabbit  quite  enough  for 
us  both  this  time.  After  that  we  crept  in  behind  the 
rocks,  and,  despite  my  long  nap  during  the  day,  I  was 
soon  sound  asleep.  I  felt  perfectly  secure  in  the  pro- 
tection afforded  by  the  fire — which  must  have  died  out 
very  soon  after  I  went  to  sleep — and  by  Otho,  and  slept 
soundly  until  nearly  daybreak.  I  was  roused  by  a  cool, 
moist  touch  on  my  face,  a  touch  that,  half  sleeping,  I  yet 
knew  boded  no  danger,  otherwise  Otho  would  have  given 
warning,  and  opened  my  eyes  to  see  bending  over  me  the 
great  head,  with  one  bright  eye  and  one  obscured  eye, 
of   Midnight. 


CHAPTFR  V. 

1  SPRANG  quickly  to  my  feet  and  put  my  arms  around 
the  big  horse's  neck ;  I  was  very,  very  glad  to  see  him, 
though  his  coming  now  made  a  new  complication.  It 
would  be  impossible  for  me  to  return  to  Bald  City  from 
Sisters,  as  I  had  planned,  until  the  horse  was  disposed  of, 
and  there  was  no  right  way  to  dispose  of  him  that  I 
could  see,  but  to  take  him  on  to  uncle.  No  matter  how 
I  might  feel  in  the  matter,  the  horse  belonged  to  uncle 
and  he  alone  had  the  right  to  say  what  should  be  done 
with  him.  It  seemed,  too,  like  a  second  betrayal  to  take 
him  on  to  uncle  now,  yet  it  must  be  done.  Things  would 
have  settled  themselves  so  much  more  easily  if  Midnight 
had  only,  as  I  thought  he  would,  returned  to  his  old  home. 

Like  a  deposed  monarch  he  had  been  ruthlessly  torn 
from  his  kingdom.  He  had  been  set,  too,  to  learn  new, 
strange  ways — ways  that,  to  him,  must  have  seemed  lack- 
ing in  good  horse-sense  and  ordinary  kindness — and,  alien 
now,  because  of  his  acquaintance  with  bondage,  to  his 
free,  untrammeled  companions  of  the  range,  he  would  not 
go  back  to  them,  even  when  free  to  do  so. 

That  was  the  way  I  reasoned  it  out  that  morning  as 
I  stood  up  and  talked  to  Midnight;  I  wanted  to  believe 
that  he  understood  when  I  at  length  told  him : 

"  I  will  try,  Midnight,  to  make  it  as  easy  for  you  as 
I  can,  but  we  must  go  on  after  the  outfit,  and,  where  uncle 
is  going  he  would  not  be  allowed  to— the  law  would  have 
something  to  say  about  it.  I  would  ask  the  protection 
of  the  law  for  you  another  time.  And  there's  Lizzie; 
no  matter  how  we  feel,  we  ought,  I  suppose,  to  consider 
her,  so  we'll  go  on,  comrade.  They've  got  a  day's  .start, 
but  you  and  I   are  good  walkers,  and  Lewis  and  Clark 


40  TEE   BLACK   BORSE. 

may  stop  again."  I  had  a  delicacy  in  using  the  word 
halk,  lest  Midnight  should  consider  it  a  personal  reflection. 

A  bit  of  rope  still  hung  from  Midnight's  neck.  Taking 
hold  of  this  I  led  him  to  the  pool  of  clear  water  down  the 
gully.  Otho  followed  and  the  three  of  us  had  a  satis- 
fying drink.  Then,  starting  a  fire,  I  warmed  the  meat  that 
had  been  left  from  our  supper  on  the  evening  before, 
dividing,  as  before,  fairly  with  Otho,  and  then  we  resumed 
our  journey. 

The  journey  differed  from  our  previous  journeys  in 
one  particular  only.  I  had  walked  much  of  the  way  before 
this,  but  never  before  had  it  been  with  a  heart  so  weighted 
with  a  sense  of  injustice  and  ill-usage,  both  for  the 
horse  and  myself.  It  was  not  a  good  nor  a  helpful 
frame  of  mind,  and  as  the  day  advanced  and  other  things 
crowded  upon  me,  it  gradually  lessened  and  I  tried  to 
think  of  uncle's  action  without  giving  way  to  my  first 
burning,  blinding  sense  of  injury  and  resentment.  I  even 
began  to  speculate  on  what  course  I  should  take  if  I  kept 
on  with  uncle  to  the  coast.  Of  one  thing  I  was  certain; 
I  would  never  stand  by  and  see  Midnight  abused  again. 

I  knew,  and  it  was  certain  that  uncle  knew  it  equally 
well — much  better,  in  fact,  since  he  was  an  accomplished 
horseman — that  Midnight's  action,  or,  to  be  strictly  accu- 
rate, inaction,  was  due  to  lack  of  education  rather  than 
to  any  unwillingness  to  work,  and  it  was  a. risky  thing  at 
the  best  to  put  a  powerful  unbroken  horse  in  beside  a 
smaller  balky  one.  If  he  had  been  with  a  team  that  could 
have  taken  him  along,  willing  or  unwilling,  he  would 
have  very  soon  mastered  this  most  essential  lesson,  too. 
Even  now  I  believed  that  Midnight  would  work  for  me. 

Long  before  noon  I  was  desperately  hungry.  The  road 
now  led  along  the  river  bank,  so,  selecting  a  place  where 
the  grass  was  good,  so  that  Midnight  might  make  sure  of 
his  dinner  at  all  events,  I  got  out  my  fishhook  and  line — 
I  had  made  a  practice  of  carrying  these  in  my  coat  pocket 
ever  since  we  started  out — and  with  a  slender  alder  branch 


MADE   READY   TO   SECURE  A  FISH   DINNER. 
41 


42  TEE    BLACK    EORSE. 

for  a  pole,  I  made  ready  to  secure  a  fish  dinner  for  myself 
and  Otho.  For  bait  I  used  an  indiscreet  grasshopper,  and 
within  five  minutes  a  steelhead  of  not  less  than  two  pounds 
weight  was  flopping  on  the  grass  beside  me. 

Two  more  steelheads  fell  victims  to  the  same  grass- 
hopper, and,  deciding  that  they  were  enough,  I  stopped 
and  prepared  them  for  dinner. 

Then  I  found  that  no  matter  how  hungry  you  may  be, 
you  will  have  difficulty  in  making  yourself  believe  that 
broiled  fish  just  garnished  with  salt  is'  a  very  palatable 
dish.  I  tried  to  believe  it,  but  failed,  and  Otho  wouldn't 
even  make  a  pretense  of  liking  it.  He  sniffed  at  his 
portion,  looked  reproachfully  at  me,  and  then  sat  down 
with  his  back  to  me,  as  his  way  was  when  offended. 

"  Well,  old  fellow,  it's  that  or  nothing,"  I  told  him,  in 
extenuation ;  and  dropping  his  nose  on  his  paws,  he  de- 
clared as  plainly  as  words  could  have  done,  that,  in  his 
case,  it  was  nothing. 

Midnight,  meanwhile,  was  entirely  free.  I  had  taken 
the  rope  from  his  neck,  and  after  looking  about  specu- 
latively for  a  minute  or  two,  he  had  fallen  to  grazing 
with  a  better  appetite  than  he  had  displayed  since  he  came 
into  our  possession.  He  looked  so  strong,  so  capable  and 
so  gentle,  that  I  resolved  to  try  riding  him.  I  had  often 
thought  of  trying  it,  but  would  not  do  so  without  uncle's 
permission,  and  his  manner  had  not  invited  me  to  ask 
any  favors. 

Midnight  and  I  were  equally  in  disgrace  now ;  it  did  not 
much  matter,  I  thought,  what  either  of  us  did^  and  if  the 
horse  would  carry  me  I  would  soon  overtake  the  wagon. 
If  he  would  not  I  had  faith  enough  in  him  to  believe  that 
he  would  manage  to  notify  me  of  the  fact  without  hurt- 
ing me.  It  did  not  matter  in  the  least  that  I  had  no  bridle. 
A  bridle  would  have  been  useless  if  he  did  not  choose 
to  obey  it;  if  he  did,  the  rope  halter  would  prove  just  as 
serviceable. 

It  did !    I  got  Midnight  up  beside  a  rock  that  was  high 


THE    BLACK    HO  USE.  43 

enough  to  enable  me  to  get  on  his  back  without  any 
sudden  spring,  and  while  Midnight  bent  his  head,  watch- 
ing the  performance  with  calm  interest,  I  slipped  from  the 
rock  to  his  back,  talking-  to  him  and  patting  him  soothingly 
the  while.  He  sniffed  at  my  heels  and  licked  my  proffered 
hand,  but  he  did  not  move,  not  even  when  I  gently  prodded 
his  sides  with  my  heels. 

Indeed,  he  could  not  know  what  I  wanted  him  to  do, 
and  I  think  that  he  feared  to  move  lest  he  should  hurt 
me.  Otho,  however,  did  not  understand  these  fine  points. 
After  one  or  two  futile  attempts  to  induce  his  big  com- 
panion to  move  on  by  barking  at  him,  he  flew  at  Mid- 
night's heels,  nipping  them  sharply,  shepherd-dog  fash- 
ion. That  settled  it.  Involuntarily  Midnight  stepped 
forward,  and,  finding  himself  unchecked,  tossed  his  head 
and  struck  out  down  the  road  in  a  swinging  gait  which 
seemed  to  literaLly  eat  up  the  distance.  How  glorious 
it  was  !  I  seemed  the  veriest  feather  in  weight  to  the 
magnificent  creature  that  carried  me  so  easily,  so  securely. 
Otho  trotted  along  beside  the  road,  now  and  then  looking 
up  at  me  and  giving  vent  to  a  short  bark  of  exultation.  My 
only  regret  was  that  he  could  not  ride  too.  I  had,  how- 
ever, taken  the  precaution  to  make  him  a  set  of  boots 
which  he  wore  with  a  very  evident  increase  of  comfort. 
I  had  made  the  boots  out  of  the  ragged  skirts  of  my  coat. 
.-.  Reaching  the  little  post  town  of  Sisters  along  in  the 
afternoon,  I  stopped  at  the  pump  beside  the  little  store, 
which  was  also  the  post  office,  for  a  drink  for  the  three 
of  us.  Having  drunk,  I  mounted  Midnight  again  and  was 
about  to  go  on,  when  the  postmaster,  appearing  in  the 
store  door,  called  after  me : 

"  Say,  young  feller  !  Hello,  there  !  I  guess  you're  him  !" 

"  I  think  likely,"  I  returned.  It  did  not  seem  polite 
to  deny  it,  since  he  seemed  so  sure  of  it,  but  I  mentally 
wondered  who  "  him  "  was. 

The  postmaster,  walking  out  to  the  pump,  at  once  en- 
lightened me. 


44  THE   BLACK   HORSE. 

"  The  little  girl  asked  me  would  I  keep  watch  out  for 
a  boy  and  a  dog,  leading  a  big,  black  horse.  That's  the 
biggest  and  the  blackest  horse  that  I've  seen  for  many  a 
day;  the  only  difference  is  that  you  ain't  leading  him." 

"  I'm  the  boy  she  meant,  for  all  that.  Did  she  leave  a 
message?" 

"  Two  of  'em.  Better  light  off  and  come  in."  But  I 
sat  irresolute.  After  a  little  consideration  I  told  the 
postmaster  that  I  was  traveling  with  the  outfit  that  the 
girl  was  with;  that  I  had  already  stayed  behind  longer 
than  I  ought,  and  would  he  please  deliver  the  message 
and  let  me  push  on. 

"  Oh,  you  can't  overtake  that  wagon  this  side  of  Euclid, 
where  I  understand  Mr.  Logan  intended  to  stop.  He  said 
he  expected  to  find  letters  waiting  him  there." 

"  Yes,  he  does,  but  I  think  I  can  overtake  them,"  I 
returned  with  what,  I  am  afraid,  was  rather  a  wistful 
glance  down  the  road  that  stretched  so  interminably  before 
us,  for  the  postmaster  hastened  to  say  in  a  kindly  tone: 

"  No,  you  can't !  You  see  it's  this  way.  Hank  Mur- 
dock — he's  foreman  of  a  horse  ranch  back  here — he  was 
going  over  across  to  Euclid  to  get  a  wagon ;  he  was  riding 
one  of  the  horses  and  packing  the  other — had  a  complete 
set  of  harness  in  the  pack — and  Mr.  Logan  bargained 
with  him  to  hitch  onto  his  wagon  and  help  snake  his  outfit 
over  the  lava.  Jim's  got  a  fine  team  and  they'll  yank  that 
wagon  over  it  in  about  half  the  time  that  it  would  take 
Mr.  Logan's  team  to  make  it  alone.  They  waited  here 
a  spell  to  buy  some  stuff,  and  while  they  were  getting  it 
and  watering  the  four  horses,  the  little  girl  she  handed 
me  a  letter  that  she'd  been  writing  whilst  they  were 
doing  it.  She  didn't  have  no  envelope  nor  nothing  but 
some  wrapping  paper  to  write  on,  but  I  put  her  letter 
in  an  envelope  and  told  her  I'd  watch  out  for  you.  It 
looks  as  if  it  was  goin'  to  blow  up  to  rain;  you'd  better 
stop  here  to-night — sha'n't  cost  you  a  cent — and  start  on 
fresh  in  the  morning." 


THE    BLACK   HORSE.  45 

I  glanced  up  at  the  clouded  sun.  It  could  not  have 
been  much  past  noon.  There  were  still  many  hours  of 
daylight  left  and  Midnight  was  not  in  the  least  tired. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  thank  you  very  much,  but  I  will 
go  on." 

"  Well,  maybe  it's  as  well.  Rain  at  this  season  is 
liable  to  turn  to  snow  at  any  hour.  I'll  bring  the  letter." 
His  eyes  ranged  comprehensively  over  me  and  my  lack 
of  ecjuipment  as  he  turned  away.  He  was  gone  longer 
than  he  need  have  been,  I  thought,  just  to  fetch  a  letter, 
but  a  thrill  of  gratitude  pulsed  warm  through  my  finger 
tips  when  he  did  appear. 

Over  his  arm  he  carried  a  pair  of  blankets  and  a  rid- 
ing bridle;  in  one  hand  was  Lizzie's  letter,  in  the  other 
a  big  bundle  done  up  in  an  empty  flour  sack. 

"  I'm  plum'  sure  you  didn't  meet  up  with  no  stores  nor 
hotels  between  here  and  the  mouth  of  the  canon,"  he  said 
genially,  "  so  you  can't  have  much  grub  on  hand.  I 
gathered  from  what  your  cousin — she  said  she  was  your 
cousin — " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  I  gathered  from  what  she  said  that  you  was  left 
behind  kind  of  accidental — accidents  will  happen  in  the 
best  regulated  countries,  and  this  ain't  even  one  of  the 
best — and  as  you  won't  have  a  chance  to  get  anything 
again  until  you've  crossed  the  summit,  and  got  over  as  far 
as  Lost  Creek,  I've  put  up  grub  enough  to  last  ye  until 
ye  get  there.  I'm  thinking  it  won't  take  you  long  with 
such  a  fine  horse  as  that  under  you,  but  you've  got  to 
stop  along  for  him  to  graze,  and  you  can't  overtake  the 
outfit  on  that  account.  Hank  Murdock  and  Mr.  Logan 
bought  feed  enough  to  last  them  until  they  get  to  Euclid." 

Somewhat  embarrassed  by  my  earnest  thanks,  the  post- 
master reached  out  a  friendly  hand  to  pat  Midnight,  and 
Midnight  promptly  took  himself  out  of  reach. 

"  Aha !  shy,  is  he  ?  He  doesn't  look  as  if  he  had  ever 
been  used  to  working,  either !" 


46  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

"  He   has   not." 

"  He's  a  beauty  all  right,  anyhow.     How'd  he  get  that 
cut  over  his  eye?" 
,  "  He — he — got  it,"  I   returned  weakly. 

"  H — um  !  yes,  yes,  I  see  he  did.  Well,  now,  you  fold 
up  them  blankets  and  put  on  him;  they  won't  be  so  com- 
fortable as  a  saddle,  but  you'll  find  them  a  long  sight 
ahead  of  nothing  at  all." 

"Oh,  but  I  can't  take  your  blankets,  sir!  I  thank  you 
ever  so  much  for  the  grub.     I  am  very  hungry — I — " 

"  Thought  you  must  be." 

"  I  am,  but  the  blankets — " 

"  See  here  !  you  can't  miss  Hank  if  you  try.  There's 
only  one  road  to  Euclid  from  this  on,  and  if  you  don't 
meet  up  with  him  coming  back  you  are  like  to  in  Euclid; 
and  if  you  don't  do  neither,  it  ain't  goin'  to  break  me  to 
lose  them  blankets  and  that  bridle.  If  you  think  it's  a 
'commodation  to  get  'em,  just  pass  the  'commodation  on 
to  the  next  feller  that  you  meet  that's  down  on  his  luck. 
You'll  get  the  chance,  all  right.  Them  chances  are  lay- 
ing 'round  thick  in  this  country.  Now,  le's  see  you  put 
the  bridle  on  the  horse  !" 

This  was  quickly  done.  Midnight  made  not  the  slight- 
est objection  to  anything  that  I  did.  He  and  I  were 
chums. 

When  the  blankets  and  bridle  were  adjusted  my  kindly 
friend  suggested  that  a  couple  of  loops  in  the  rope  would 
give  a  rest  for  my  feet. 

"  That's  the  way  lots  of  Indians  ride,"  he  remarked.  I 
knew  this  to  be  true. 

When  the  loops  were  arranged  at  the  proper  length 
for  stirrups,  I  mounted,  and,  responding  cordially  to  the 
postmaster's  reiterated  good  wishes  for  a  safe  journey, 
once  more  took  the  road. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

WHEN  the  little  store  and  its  friendly  proprietor 
had  been  left  well  behind  I  took  out  Lizzie's 
letter.  Our  epistolary  acquaintance  with  uncle's 
family  had  been  entirely  through  Aunt  Annie,  and  this 
was  the  first  letter  of  Lizzie's  writing  that  I  had  ever  seen. 
It  was  written  on  a  sheet  of  coarse,  crumpled  wrapping 
paper,  and  I  read  it  with  an  aching  heart. 

The  better  to  make  my  meaning  clear,  when  I  say  that, 
I  will  append  the  letter  itself. 

"In  tHe  wAggIN;  dEar  siDDeNNY, 

"  PA  has  Got  A  mAn  wHat  has  got  2  HorSes,  they  air 
bRoke,  To  hiTc  on  To  us  aNd  taKe  uS  over  tHe  mOUn- 
tAins  "— 

Oh,  no !  I  cannot  reproduce  the  poor  little  letter  in  all 
its  deplorable  misspelling  and  chirography.  Enough  that 
the  lines  given  are  a  faithful  transcript  of  the  entire  let- 
ter, as  far  as  they  go — "  I  asked  pa  what  would  become 
of  you,  and  he  said  that  there  was  only  one  road  and  you 
could  not  miss  it,  and  that  if  you  would  come  on  and  behave 
yourself,  all  would  be  forgiven.  Dear  Sydney,  I  hope 
you  will  come;  I  feel  sorry  all  the  time  about  you,  and  I 
think  pa  is  some  sorry,  too.  I  asked  him  and  he  said  I 
might  write  this  letter. 

"  I  wanted  him  to  write  because  I  cannot  spell  very 
well.  I  always  wanted  to  learn  to  write  and  spell;  ma 
she  taught  me  how  to  read  and  make  writing  letters,  and 
then  I  guess  she  got  kind  of  discouraged  because  we 
moved  around  so  many  times  and  never  stopped  long 
enough  anywhere  for  me  to  go  to  school,  for  she  did  not 
teach  me  any  more  after  she  had  taught  me  that  much; 
that  is  the  reason  why  I  don't  spell  any  better. 

47 


48  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

"  I  would  not  write  to  anyone  but  you,  for  I  would  be 
ashamed  to.  I  would  be  afraid  they  would  laugh  at  me, 
but  I  know  you  will  not.  I  asked  pa  if  he  would  wait 
ibr  you  when  we  got  to  Euclid,  and  he  said  that  he  would. 
I  feel  awful  bad  because  you  have  not  got  any  money  or 
anything  to  eat.  I  threw  out  your  gun  and  cartridges 
and  some  salt  and  matches,  and  you  are  a  good  shot;  pa 
says  you  are,  too.  I  heard  pa  and  Mr.  Murdock — that's 
the  man  who  is  going  to  help  us  over  the  lava — talking 
about  the  Forest  Reserve.  Mr.  Murdock  says  it  begins 
two  miles  beyond  the  store  where  I  am  going  to  leave 
this   letter   for  you. 

"  I  shall  miss  you  very  much  if  you  do  not  come  on, 
and  I  think  pa  will,  too,  because  he  said  I  might  write, 
and  when  the  wagon  jiggled  so  that  I  could  not  make 
the  letters,  he  stopped  the  team  and  waited  for  me,  and 
when  Mr.  Murdock  said,  'what  was  we  stopping  for?'  pa 
told  him  that  I  wanted  to  leave  a  note  for  one  of  the 
outfit  who  had  been  left  behind  a  piece. 

"  Mr.  Murdock  said  that  nobody  could  help  knowing 
when  they  got  to  the  Forest  Reserve,  because  there  was 
a  great  big  notice  printed  on  cloth  and  nailed  to  a  tree 
beside  the  road.  The  notice  says,  '  Warning !  Forest 
Fires  !'  and  it  is  all  in  big  letters  that  tell  what  will  be 
done  to  you  if  you  set  fire  to  the  woods,  and  when  you 
come  to  that  tree  I  want  you  to  stop  and  look  behind  that 
cloth  warning,  where  it  is  nailed  to  the  tree. 

"  When  you  get  what  I  am  going  to  put  there,  I  want 
you  to  trade  it  off  for  something  to  eat,  for  I  feel  awful 
bad  about  you,  Sydney,  and  I  know  you  will  not  laugh 
at  me  because  I  cannot  spell  any  better,  so  no  more  at 
present,  from  your  cousin  Lizzie." 

Laugh  at  her — dear  Lizzie  of  the  gentle  heart!  Boy 
as  I  was,  and  scornful  in  true  boyish  fashion  of  all  show 
of  emotion,  I  yet  was  not  ashamed  of  the  tears  that,  as 
I  read,  fell  on  the  pathetic  little  letter,  adding  materially 
to  its  already  disreputable  appearance. 


THE    BLACK    HORSE.  49 

"  Midnight  and  Otho,  you  two  bear  witness,"  I  said, 
raising  my  hand  and  speaking  to  my  two  companions,  as 
I  refolded  the  letter  and  replaced  it  in  my  pocket :  "  Lizzie 
has  got  to  have  a  chance  to  go  to  school;  she's  got  to 
have  it,  somehow,  even  if  I  have  to  sit  up  nights  to  do 
the  housework." 

I  had  hardly  made  the  declaration  when,  raising  my 
eyes,  I  saw  a  large  white  placard  nailed  conspicuously  to 
the  big  tree  on  my  right,  and  but  a  few  steps  in  advance. 
In  large  letters,  too,  the  placard  proclaimed: 

"  Warning !    Forest  Fires  !" 

We  were  entering  the  eastern  border  of  the  great  Forest 
Reserve.  Springing  from  Midnight's  back,  I  ran  to  the 
tree.  The  placard,  as  I  stood  on  the  ground  beside  it, 
was  above  my  head.  Lizzie  could  by  no  means  have 
reached  it  from  that  vantage,  but  I  had  sufficient  faith 
in  her  ingenuity  to  believe  that  she  would  find  some  way 
of  overcoming  that  difficulty.  Indeed,  it  was  easy  to  see 
that  there  really  was  something,  some  small  article  tucked 
out  of  sight  underneath  its  lower  edge.  Securing  a  stout 
stick  and  resting  one  end  against  the  tree,  I  stepped  upon 
it,  and  thrusting  my  hand  under  the  placard,  soon  had  the 
article  in  my  hand.  It  was  the  gold  nugget  that  the  cattle- 
man had  given  Lizzie  two  nights  before. 

"  If  Lizzie  is  willing,  this  will  be  our  first  start  toward 
a  school  fund,"  I  informed  Otho,  who  had  been  watching 
and  assisting  with  his  usual  whole-hearted  eagerness. 

There  was  something  like  thirty-five  miles  to  traverse 
before  we  came  to  another  dwelling,  and  five  of  the 
thirty  were  through  the  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano. 

I  was  riding  a  powerful  horse  who  was  proving  himself 
to  be  a  remarkably  fast  walker;  I  had  a  gun,  ammunition, 
and,  thanks  again  to  the  postmaster,  food  and  blankets. 
If  the  weather  held !  Already  the  sun  was  hidden  by  the 
thickening  clouds  and  the  strong  wind  had  a  smell  of  rain. 

The  tall  trees  among  which  the  road  now  wound — 
giants  of  the  Reserve,  well  worthy  to  be  safeguarded  by 


THE   PLACARD    WAS   ABOVE    MY    HEAD. 
50 


TEE    BLACK    HO'RSE.  51 

law  and  vigilant  watchfulness — bent,  swaying  and  creak- 
ing and  tossing  their  great  branches  wildly  in  the  hurry- 
ing blast.  I  wanted,  if  I  could,  to  reach  some  open  spot 
before  camping  for  the  night;  some  spot  where  the 
crowding  trees  fell  back  far  enough  to  admit  of  an  unob- 
structed view  of  the  sky. 

Finally  I  decided  to  stop  for  the  night  where  a  tiny 
rivulet  stole  across  the  road  and  out  of  sight,  as  if  in 
undue  haste  to  be  gone.  Along  the  borders  of  the  little 
stream  was  a  scanty  growth  of  pine  grass  on  which  Mid- 
night might  graze,  and  I  feared  that  we  might  not  come 
to  a  better  spot  soon.  But  the  locality  was  undoubtedly 
gloomy.  The  trees  grew  close  together  and  very  tall,  and 
the  trunks  and  branches — how  very  tall  and  massive  those 
trunks  grew  before  they  sent  out  any  branches  ! — were 
thickly  draped  with  long,  swaying  tufts  and  streamers  of 
black  moss.  Not  the  gray  Spanish  moss  of  the  Southern 
forests,  but  a  fine,  thread-like  black  moss  that,  hanging 
from  the  branches  in  countless  strands,  and  whipping  in 
the  wind,  bore  a  terrible  likeness  to  human  hair.  My 
depression  was  intensified,  rather  than  lightened,  by  the 
one  evidence  of  human  interest  that  stared  at  me  from 
three  different  trees. 

This  was  the  fire  warning.  The  warning,  couched  in 
commanding  terms,  and  the  stern  threat  of  punishment 
should  one  be  guilty  of  disobeying  it,  fixed  my  thoughts 
most  unpleasantly  on  the  subject  of  forest  fires.  Trav- 
elers were  not  forbidden  to  build  fires  for  their  own  use, 
but  explicit  directions  were  given  as  to  how  they  should 
be  built  and  the  precautions  that  should  be  taken  in  ex- 
tinguishing them.  I  turned  Midnight  loose,  in  return  for 
which  favor  he  simply  stood  and  looked  at  me,  then  I 
went  to  the  nearest  tree  and  read,  for  the  fifth  or  sixth 
time — for  the  warnings  were  posted  thickly  all  along  the 
route — the  directions  for  building  fires.  The  directions 
were  clear  and  explicit. 

So  I  carefully  scraped  away  the  leaves  and  pine  cones, 


52  THE   BLACK   HORSE. 

leaving  a  clean  pit  of  sand,  in  the  center  of  which  I  built 
a  frugal  little  blaze,  and  impaling  a  chunk  of  the  meat 
on  a  sharpened  stick,  held  it  in  the  blaze  until  it  began 
to  smoke.  I  was  so  absorbed  in  watching  both  meat  and 
fire,  that  for  the  moment  I  noticed  nothing  else,  and 
bounded  back  as  if  shot  when  a  calm  voice  observed: 

"  Wait  till  the  fire  has  burned  down  a  little ;  you'll  spoil 
your  supper  at  that  rate." 

Looking  up,  I  encountered  the  amused  glance  of  a  pair 
of  very  bright  eyes;  the  eyes  belonged  to  a  tall  young 
man  dressed  from  head  to  foot  in  a  well-worn  suit  of 
khaki,  and  were  regarding  me  with  more  interest  than 
approval.  I  withdrew  the  meat,  as  suggested,  and  waited, 
while  the  young  man  remarked: 

"  Isn't  it  rather  risky,  starting  a  fire  in  such  a  gale  as 
this  ?" 

Instinctively  I  glanced  toward  the  tree  where  a  placard 
still  gleamed  faintly  white  in  the  gathering  dusk. 

"  I've  complied  with  the  regulations — "  I  was  beginning, 
when  the  stranger,  who  had  now  stepped  forward  into 
the  full  glow  of  the  firelight,  interrupted: 

"  Yes ;  I  see  you  have.  Finish  your  .supper  now  and 
put  the  fire  out !" 

His  authoritative  tone  nettled  me  for  a  moment,  but 
the  advice  that  he  gave  me  was  good,  and  while  I  has- 
tened to  comply  with  it,  I  had  an  illumination. 

"Are  you  the  forest  ranger,  sir?" 

"There  are  several  of  them;  I  am  one.  It  isn't  our 
usual  custom  to  patrol  the  forest  so  late  in  the  day,  but 
there's  always  danger  in  such  a  wind  as,  this,  and  while 
I  was  getting  ready  to  camp  back  here,  1  smelled  smoke 
and  trailed  you  down — "  he  broke  off  abruptly  with  an  un- 
easy look  around  and  into  the  forest,  and  presently  went 
on: 

"It  doesn't  seem  as  if  your  little  handful  of  fire  could 
have  made  such  an  unusually  pervading  smell.  How  long 
have  you  been  here?" 


THE   BLACK   HORSE.  53 

"Not  very  long;  twenty  minutes,  maybe — just  long 
enough  to  scrape  off  this." 

"  It  was  longer  ago  than  that  that  I  smelled  smoke.  I 
am  stopping  at  a  cabin  back  here,  and  it  was  nearly  an 
hour  ago  that  I  caught  the  smell." 

"  I  thought  there  were  no  houses  this  side  of  the  lava," 
I  ventured. 

"  There  are  no  occupied  houses.  This  cabin  and  the 
clearing  around  it  was  here  before  the  government  set 
aside  the  forest  for  a  reservation.  There's  a  large  clear- 
ing around  the  cabin  and  a  little  lake  near  it;  the  lake's 
full  of  trout."  He  had  been  helping  me  to  stamp  out  the 
last  spark  of  fire  as  he  talked.  That  done,  he  straight- 
ened up,  standing  still  in  an  attitude  of  attentive  listening. 

"  The  wind  is  blowing  such  a  gale  that  one  can  hear 
nothing  else,  and  the  clouds  are  so  black  it's  difficult  to 
determine  whether  they  are  clouds  or — your  horse  seems 
uneasy,"  he  concluded,  with  an  abrupt  change  of  voice. 

It  was  true.  Midnight  had  not  taken  to  grazing  as  I 
wished,  but  he  and  Otho  were  both  keeping  close  to  me. 

"  There's  another  danger  than  that  of  fire  to  be  reck- 
oned on,  here  in  the  forest,  in  this  wind,"  the  ranger 
remarked. 

"What  is  that?"  I  inquired  uneasily,  though,  looking 
at  the  bending,  groaning  trees,  I  could  have  given  a  pretty 
accurate  guess  as  to  what  it  was. 

"  From  falling  trees.  There,  hear  that !  It  was  pretty 
near  here,"  the  ranger  observed.  "  Such  high  winds 
as  this  are  extremely  rare  in  the  forest;  when  they  do 
occur  the  timber,  in  places,  is  mowed  down  by  the  acre." 

"  Why  is  that,  I  wonder  ?" 

"  In  such  places  the  trees  are  growing  in  soil  that, 
though  rich  enough  to  nourish  them,  is  scarcely  more  than 
a  thin  layer  spread  over  underlying  rocks.  Pick  up  your 
things  and  come  over  to  the  cabin  with  me.  It  is  about 
a  mile  down  the  road.  You  will  be  safe  there,  as  you  are 
not   here." 


54  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

He  was  a  masterful  young  man  and  had  no  notion  of 
waiting  for  any  formal  acceptance.  Immediately  be  was 
thrusting  the  remnants  of  my  supper  back  into  the  flour 
sack,  which  he  knotted  securely,  while  I  fastened  the 
blankets  in  place  on  Midnight.  Then,  in  spite  of  the 
occasion  for  haste,  which  I  perfectly  understood  was  not 
all  on  account  of  the  falling  trees,  for  the  smell  of  burn- 
ing wood  was  strong  on  the  air,  though  neither  of  us 
had  again  referred  to  it,  I  stopped  to  observe  a  very  curi- 
ous phenomenon.  Borne  far  above  the  tree  tops,  racing 
on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  rather  than  on  their  own,  was 
r.  scattering  flight  of  crimson  fireflies ;  I  had  never  seen 
so  many  together  before,  nor  of  such  a  crimson  hue. 

"  What  are  you  waiting  for?"  the  ranger  demanded, 
sharply,  as  I  stood  with  upraised  face,  watching  them. 

"Why,  those  fireflies;  I  never  saw — " 

"  You'll  never  see  again  if  you  don't  look  out.  The 
fire  is  upon  us;  quick,  on  to  your  horse  and  follow  me 
for  your   life !" 

I  was  on  Midnight's  back  in  an  instant,  and  then,  in 
the  half  light,  I  caught  the  shine  of  Otho's  eyes,  watch- 
ing me.     Otho's  feet  were  sore,  and  Midnight  was  fleet. 

"  Here !"  I  said,  thickly,  for  I  was  trembling  with 
terror,  though  the  ranger  seemed  perfectly  self-possessed, 
"  lift  my  dog  up  to  me ;  the  horse  must  carry  both  of  us, 
or  neither." 

"  Right !"  he  caught  Otho  by  the  scruff  of  the  n£ck  and 
swung  him  lightly  into  my  arms.  "  Here  !"  he  said,  and 
thrust  the  gun  into  my  hands.  Encumbered  as  he  was 
with  the  sack  of  provisions  and  the  cartridge  belt,  the 
ranger  gave  a  leap  that  landed  him  fairly  on  Midnight's 
back,  just  behind  me. 

"  Into  the  road — now,  go !"  The  last  word  was  a 
shout  enforced  by  a  sudden  thrust  of  both  feet  into  Mid- 
night's sides — and  Midnight  went! 

It  had  been  less  than  one  minute  since  I  stopped  to 
look  at  the  fireflies,  but  already  cinders,  burning  leaves 


THE    BLACK    HOUSE.  55 

and  fragments  of  flaming  branches  were  flying  through 
the  air  and  falling  around  and  ahead  of  us,  and  the  dark 
forest  was  being  strangely  illurninated. 

"Keep  to  the  road;  never  mind  if  the  fire  is  in  it!" 
cried  the  ranger  in  my  ear.  But,  indeed,  Midnight  showed 
no  disposition  to  leave  the  beaten  track.  Had  he  been 
so  inclined,  I  should  have  been  powerless  to  prevent  it. 

About  a  mile  farther  down  the  road,  the  ranger  had 
said.  The  fire  was  behind  us  and  coming  straight  on 
on  both  sides  of  the  road.  It  came  fast !  fast !  There 
was  such  a  terrific  wind.  No  doubt,  as  is  usual  in  such 
conflagrations,  the  fire  itself  set  strong  currents  of  air 
in  motion,  and  these  combined  with  the  gale.  We  were 
going  at  a  speed  that  literally  tore  the  breath  from  my 
lips,  when,  above  the  roar  of  the  wind  and  the  advancing 
fire,  I  caught  the  shrill,  sibilant  whistle,  almost  a  shriek — 
a  sound  that  carries,  always,  an  underlying  note  of 
despair— of  a  great  tree  as  it  fell,  rushing  through  the 
air  to  crash  helplessly  on  the  earth. 

"  Close  call !"  the  ranger  cried  in  my  ear,  and  I  bent 
my  head  4ow  so  that,  without  turning  around,  and  thus 
disturbing  my  grasp  on  Otho,  I  could  look  back.  A  great 
tree,  uprooted  by  the  wind,  had  fallen  and  lay  squarely 
across  the  road,  behind  us. 

"  It  was  an  even  chance  whether  we  should  be  smashed 
or  burned,  that  time/'  the  ranger  commented;  and  now, 
by  the  light  of  the  all-sufficient  fire,  I  caught  sight  of  a 
wide,  open,  treeless  space. 

"  Turn  to  the  left  I"  the  ranger  cried ;  and  in  another 
second  we  were  safe  beside  the  tenantless  cabin. 

I  slid  Otho  carefully  down  Midnight's  shoulder  to  the 
ground,  and  then  sprang  down  beside  the  ranger,  who 
was  gazing  silently  at  the  magnificent  spectacle  of  the 
great  pine  forest  shrieking  and  writhing  in  a  whirlwind 
of  fire. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  fire  circled  so  swiftly  around  the  clearing  that 
we  were,  for  a  few  minutes,  encompassed  on  all 
sides  with  veritable  walls  of  flame. 

We  were  quite  safe,  though  a  shower  of  blazing  frag- 
ments fell  over  what  had  been  a  plowed  field;  they 
burned  harmlessly  and  the  cabin  itself  was  untouched. 

"  God  be  thanked,  there's  no  one  camping  between  this 
and  the  lava !"  the  ranger  said  at  last.  At  the  words, 
my  heart  gave  a  sick  throb  of  terror.  "  Oh,  but  there 
may  be !  My  uncle — "  I  stopped.  The  ranger  turned 
his  attentive  eyes  from  the  forest  to  my  face. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

I  explained. 

"  Two  men,  four  horses  and  a  young  girl  in  the  outfit, 
you  say?  Well  set  your  mind  at  rest.  I  met  that  outfit 
fifteen  miles  beyond  the  lava  early  this  morning,  just  as 
they  were  starting  out  from  the  camp  shed  at  Lost  Creek. 
They  are,  by  this  time,  well  beyond  any  possible  danger 
from  this  fire,  even  if  it  should  run  so  far,  as  it  will 
not.  It  has  not  far  to  go  now,  to  reach  the  lava,  but  it 
will  stop  there,  and  it  will  not  circle  around  the  lava,  for — 
see !"  He  held  up  his  hand,  smiling  faintly  as  two  or 
three  drops  of  rain  splashed  upon  it. 

"  Come  inside,"  he  said,  throwing  open  the  cabin  door. 
"  There's  going  to  be  a  heavy  shower,  and  it  will  settle 
this  fire  business  in  short  order." 

"  I'll  put  Midnight  around  here  at  the  back,  where  he'll 
be  sheltered  from  the  wind  first,"  I  said,  and  started  to 
lead  him  around.    The  ranger  went  with  me. 

"Midnight,  do  you  call  him?  He's  well  named!  If 
he  had  been  much  less  fleet  of  foot  than  the  highest  of 
midnight  winds,   you   and   I   wouldn't   be   standing  here 

56 


THE   BLACK   HORSE.  57 

talking  about  him  now.  How  did  you  come  to  get  hold 
of  such  a  magnificent  creature?" 

Now  I  was,  in  those  days,  a  very  lonely  boy.  The  forest 
ranger — a  bright-eyed,  intelligent,  kindly-speaking  man, 
not  so  far  beyond  me  in  years  that  he  might  be  supposed 
to  have  outgrown  all  boyish  sympathies — and  I  had  but 
just  narrowly  escaped  a  dreadful  death  together,  and, 
somehow,  when  we  were  inside  the  cabin,  with  a  bright 
fire  blazing  on  the  long-disused  hearth,  and  the  rain  beat- 
ing a  welcome  tattoo  on  the  cabin  roof,  I  told  him  all 
about  it. 

"  And  that's  how  you  came  by  Midnight  ?"  the  ranger 
said,  thoughtfully,  as  I  concluded  my  recital.  For  a  long 
time  he  said  no  more.  When  he  did  speak  his  first  words 
sounded  exceedingly  irrelevant. 

"  I  like  my  business.  I  like  it,  and  am  so  well  regarded 
in  it  that  even  such  a  calamity  as  this  fire  to-night  will  not 
weigh  against  me.  If  it  had  occurred  in  the  district  of 
some  rangers  it  would  be  considered  sufficient  cause  for 
dismissal.  Climatic  conditions  and  the  irresponsible  act 
of  some  careless  camper  will  serve  to  justify  me,  as  it 
should  any  other,  but  I  am  not  speaking  of  justice  simply. 
It  is  because  I  love  the  work  and  am  known  to  be  careful 
in  it,  that  I  am  trusted;  but,  if  I  was  not  entirely  alone  in 
the  world,  if  there  were  any  to  whom  I  could  feel  that 
I  owed  a  duty,  I  would  leave  this  to  be  with  them.  I 
have  been  in  Australia,  New  Zealand,  Patagonia,  Africa — 
in  half  the  out-of-the-way  corners  of  the  earth — and  the 
one  vital  fact  that  I  have  learned,  from  all  my  wander- 
ings, is  that  there  is  nothing  on  earth  so  good  for  man 
or  boy,  woman  or  maid,  as — a  home !  Just  a  home,  Syd- 
ney. Some  place  where  you  may  take  root  and  grow 
to  be  yourself.  Your  first  mistake,  apparently,  was  in 
placing  yourself  in  the  hands  of  a  man  whose  tastes  and 
aspirations  are  totally  different  from  your  own.  The 
whipping  that  you  received  was  unjustifiable,  yet  such 
an  act  might  be  safely  counted  upon   from  such  a  man 


I    TOLD    HIM    ALL    ABOUT    IT. 

58 


THE    BLACK    HORSE.  59 

under  such  circumstances.  The  circumstances  were  most 
irritating,  and  it  is  evident  that  he  is  lacking  in  self- 
control,  and  that  he  has  not  the  feeling  for  our  animal 
friends  that  you  possess.  But  I  would  judge  that  he  is, 
nevertheless,  an  honest  man.  You  say  that  your  money 
paid  for  the  horses  and  wagon ;  there  was  a  bill  of  sale 
given  with  them,  no  doubt?" 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  Was  it  made  out  to  him  ?" 

"  No ;  to  me." 

"That  proves  my  theory;  he  is  an  honest  man,  or  he 
would  most  certainly  have  had  that  bill  made  out  to 
himself.  You  would  have  made  no  objection  to  that, 
would  you?" 

I  was  fain  to  confess  that  I  would, not,  as  I  was  far  too 
ignorant  of  business  usages  to  understand  the  value  of 
such  a  document. 

"  And  that  brings  me  to  another  point,  Sydney.  I  read 
something  the  other  day  in  which  a  certain  well-known 
writer  states,  as  a  fact  too  patent  for  question,  '  Youth 
is  always  uncharitable.'  There's  a  good  deal  of  truth  in 
the  statement,  but  I  think  it  needs  shading.  In  your 
case  I  would  advise  the  exercise  of  a  little  charity  toward 
Mr.  Logan.  You  say  that  you  will  leave  him  and  strike 
out  for  yourself  as  soon  as  you  turn  the  horse  over  to 
him.  There's  where  you  are  wrong.  It's  a  sad  thing 
to  me  when,  for  some  fancied  or  real  slight,  a  boy  is  will- 
ing and  eager  to  forget  all  the  ties  that  should  be  con- 
sidered binding,  and  leave  home  and  kindred  to  '  strike 
out  for  himself !'  If  the  striking  out  is  with  the  consent 
and  approval  of  his  parents,  all  right;  he  is  doing  some- 
thing to  be  commended.  Without  it,  he  is  doing  them  a 
wrong.  Of  course  this  does  not  apply  in  your  case.  Mr. 
Logan  is,  as  you  say,  no  kin  of  yours;  yet  he  was  your 
mother's  sister's  husband,  and  you  owe  him  fair  consid- 
eration on  that  account.  I  would  even  urge,  Sydney, 
that,  in  his  case,  you  go  so  far  as  to  cultivate  '  the  great- 


60  THE    BLACK   HORSE. 

est  of  these.'  It  is  not  for  nothing  that  charity  is  so 
designated,  and  perhaps  it  is  a  good  deal  to  expect 
a  young  fellow  like  you  to  begin,  straight  off,  to  live  up 
to  the  teaching  of  the  greatest  of  all  the  virtues.  You. 
have  asked  my  advice;  yet  you  say  at  once  that  you  shall 
leave  this  unfortunate  little  family  to  their  own  devices 
as  soon  as  you  can  rid  yourself  of  the  property  that  has 
had  sufficient  faith  in  your  kindness  of  heart  to  put  itself 
into  your  hands.  Now,  to  conclude  my  homily," — he 
turned  to  me  with  a  smile  that  showed  a  flash  of  white 
teeth — "  don't  leave  your  uncle — yet.  Wait  until  the  way 
is  clear;  your  cousin  needs  you  now,  if  your  uncle  does 
not.  Wait  and  be  patient;  some  way  will  be  opened  by 
which  you  can  do  what  is  best  for  yourself  and  yet  do 
right;  the  right  way  isn't  to  sneak  out  of  unpleasant 
reponsibilities.  And — don't  be  afraid  to  ask  for  the  right 
direction  from  Him  who  alone  can  give  it.    That  is  all." 

"  And  it  seems  very  sensible,  too,"  I  ventured. 

The  ranger  laughed  pleasantly.  "  I  am  glad  you  think 
so,  since  it  encourages  me  to  hope  that  you  will  act  upon 
the  advice  I  have  given  you." 

The  rain  had  ceased  when,  early  the  next  morning,  I 
parted  from  the  ranger,  at  the  door  of  the  cabin,  as  from 
a  cherished  friend,  and  took  my  way  alone. 

I  crossed  the  lava  and  passed  the  famous  Windy  Point 
without  difficulty.  Windy  Point  I  found  to  be  worthy 
of  its  name. 

Evening  found  us  at  McKenzie  High  Bridge,  where 
there  is  a  good  camp  shed,  and  here  we  passed  the  night. 
Soon  after  leaving,  the  next  morning,  we  met  a  man 
coming  up  the  road — after  passing  the  lava  it  was  virtu- 
ally down  hill  all  the  way  to  Euclid — driving  a  big,  com- 
petent-looking team  attached  to  a  wagon  of  like  descrip- 
tion. Before  I  got  within  speaking  distance  of  the  man 
it  struck  me  that  there  was  something  oddly  familiar  in 
the  look  of  the  wagon.  When  we  got  closer  there  was  no 
mistaking  it — it  was  our  wagon.     I   stopped  and  looked 


THE    BLACK    HORSE.  61 

questioningly  at  the  driver,  who  instantly  stopped  his 
team  and  greeted  me  cordially,  springing  from  the  wagon 
to  offer  me  a  hearty  handshake. 

"You're  young  Sydney  Lockwood,  I  take  it?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Yes,  of  course.  No  mistaking  that  horse,  or  the  dog. 
How  are  you,  Otho  ?  Miss  Lizzie  told  me  about  you,  sir  ! 
Well,  how  goes  it,  Sydney?" 

His  friendly  blue  eyes  regarded  me  inquiringly. 

"  First-rate,"  I  replied,  smiling.  I  had  been  thinking 
deeply  of  the  forest  ranger's  advice. 

"  That's  good !  We  felt  terribly  uneasy  about  you  last 
night,  when  we  saw  that  fire  blazing  beyond  the  lava. 
Your  uncle  allowed  that  you  would  be  walking  and  might 
be  in  the  forest;  he  was  terribly  uneasy,  but  he  had  to 
hide  it  from  the  little  girl;  guess  she'd  'a'  gone  plumb 
crazy  if  she'd  'a'  suspected  there  was  any  danger.  She's 
set  on  the  back  of  the  load  and  watched  for  you  to  come 
along  ever  since  I  hitched  on.  Your  uncle  said  you'd  be 
walking,  but  it  seems  you're  riding." 

"  Yes ;  will  you  tell  me,  please,  how  you  come  to  have 
that  wagon?" 

Murdock  laughed.  "  This  wagon  ?  Why,  I  bought  it 
of  your  uncle.  He  said,  by  the  way,  that  you  had  a  claim 
on  it,  but  that  you  wouldn't  object  to  his  selling  it." 

"No." 

"  He's  disbanded,  so  to  speak.  Seems  he  was  p'intin' 
for  a  place  over  on  the  coast,  some  place  where  he'd  got 
a  chance  to  do  some  surveyin' ;  and,  when  he  got  to  Euclid, 
he  found  letters  tellin'  him  not  to  come.  The  contract 
had  been  let  to  another  party." 

"  Oh,  that's  too  bad !" 

"No,  it  ain't;  leastways,  your  uncle  don't  think  so. 
Seems  it's  a  big  comp'ny,  an'  they  want  him,  now,  to  go 
down  into  lower  California  to  take  charge  of  some  work 
there.  I  didn't  just  git  the  rights  of  it,  but  your  uncle, 
he's  anxious  to  go.     He's  just  waitin'  for  you  to  git  in. 


f>2  THE    BLACK    HORSE. 

He's  got  a  good  offer  for  the  team,  but  he  says  he  couldn't 
give  a  clean  bill  of  sale  of  them  until  you  come;  it  don't 
make  any  difference  'bout  such  a  thing  as  a  wagon ;  but, 
when  it  comes  to  sellin'   horses,   that's   another  matter." 

How  confidently  they  had  counted  on  my  coming ! 
What  a  blow  to  both  it  would  have  been  had  I  failed  them  ! 
And  for  this  we  all  were  indebted  to  Midnight ! 

I  had  slipped  from  Midnight's  back  and  was  stripping 
off  blankets  and  bridle  as  Murdock  talked.  Murdock  took 
the  articles  and  bestowed  them  carefully  in  the  back  of 
the  wagon. 

"  Bill  Smith,  he's  a  good  feller!"  he  remarked,  approv- 
ingly, when  I  told  him  how  I  came  to  have  the  things. 
"  You  can  git  along  all  right  the  rest  of  the  way ;  you'll 
be  into  Euclid  before  supper-time.  '  That  horse  looks  as  if 
he   could   walk." 

"  He  can,  and  run,  too !"  And  I  told  him  about  our 
escape  from  the  fire. 

"  We  all  of  us  owe  a  good  deal  to  our  horses,"  he  re- 
marked, by  way  of  comment. 

Tt  was  not  three  o'clock  of  that  same  day  when  Mid- 
night, Otho  and  I  were  going  down  the  principal  street 
of  Euclid.  I  had  neglected  to  ask  Murdock  where  I  should 
look  for  uncle,  and  was  casting  about  in  my  mind  for  some 
possible  clue  to  his  whereabouts,  when  I  suddenly  caught 
sight  of  him  standing  in  front  of  the  post  office.  He  saw 
me  at  the  same  time,  and  hurried  out  into  the  street  to 
meet  me. 

Midnight  was  taken  to  a  livery  stable,  and  then  I  went 
with  uncle  to  complete  the  sale  of  the  horses,  Lewis  and 
Clark.  This  done,  we  went  to  the  little  hotel,  where 
Lizzie  was  awaiting  my  arrival.  She  took  my  reappear- 
ance quite  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"I  knew  you'd  come  on  !  You  couldn't  have  the  heart 
to  desert  us,  Sydney." 

"  Separation  isn't  desertion,"  uncle  told  her.  Then,  as 
she  left  the  room,  he  proceeded  to  outline  his  plans  to  me. 


THE    BLACK    HORSE.  C3 

It  was  a  relief  to  find  that  I  was  not  included  in  them. 

"  It's  a  venture  at  the  best,"  uncle  said,  truly  enough, 
"  and  I  don't  think  you  would  like  the  country,  either. 
You  don't  understand  Spanish,  for  one  thing,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  and  the  labor  employed  is  mostly  Mexican. 
I   speak  the  language  and  Lizzie  can  learn." 

"  Yes,  Lizzie  can  learn,"  I  agreed ;  for  that  was  a  point 
that  I  meant  to  enlarge  upon  later. 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  imply  that  you  cannot  learn,  Syd- 
ney." 

"  I  know  you  do  not,  Uncle  Sumner.  I  think  that  I 
understand  you  fully,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  go." 

"  I  am  relieved  to  hear  you  say  it.  Perhaps— in  fact,  I 
know — I  haven't  done  right  by  you,  Sydney,  and  you  have 
been  a  good  boy — faithful  in  all  respects.  I  am  sorry  that 
— but  we'll  drop  that.  What  I  am  going  to  say  is  this : 
I  need  the  money  that  the  sale  of  the  horses  and  wagon 
has  brought;  I  can  do  nothing  without  it,  for,  if  I  am 
to  take  this  position,   I  must  go  at  once." 

"  I  want  you  to  take  it,  uncle ;  I  should  never  feel  right, 
under  the  circumstances,  if  you  did  not." 

"  Thank  you.  Now,  as  to  Midnight.  I  ought  to  have 
left  the  management  of  him  to  you  from  the  first,  because 
you  can  do  anything  with  him  and  I  can  do  nothing.  I 
shall  pay  you  for  Lewis  and  Clark  just  as  soon  as  I  can 
spare  the  money,  so  it  is  not  on  that  account  that  I  say 
Midnight  is  yours.  I  understand  that  there  is  an  excellent 
opening  right  here  in  Euclid  for  an  express  and  delivery 
business,  and  you  can  easily  get  hold  of  a  wagon  and 
harness  to  begin  with.  How  does  that  idea  strike  you?" 
he  continued. 

"  I  am  very  grateful  to  you,  uncle." 

"  I  am  the  more  glad  to  hear  you  say  it  because,  on 
the  whole,  I  can't  flatter  myself  that  I  have  acted  in  a 
way  to  establish  any  great  claim  to  gratitude  from  you. 
Now,  when  Lizzie  and  I  go — " 

"  But,   if  you  please,  uncle,  there   is  something  that  I 


64  THE   BLACK   HORSE. 

very  much  wish  to  say.    It  is  about  my  cousin  Lizzie." 

"Yes?"  Uncle  looked  at  me  in  evident  surprise,  but 
I  had  found  my  tongue  now,  and  used  it  to  beg  him  to  send 
Lizzie  to  some  good  school,  instead  of  taking  her  with 
him.  At  first  he  ridiculed  the  idea.  It  ended  in  my  hand- 
ing him  Lizzie's  letter.  He  read  it,  turned  it  slowly  over 
and  over  in  his  hands,  as  if  thinking  deeply,  and  then  he 
asked,  "  May  I  keep  this?" 

"  Why,  certainly,"  I  replied,  somewhat  surprised  at 
the  request. 

"  You  see,"  he  said,  as  he  carefully  folded  the  letter 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket,  "  I've  never  been  parted  from  my 
little  girl;  it  will  be  rather  of  a  hard  experience.  Some- 
times, if  it  seems  too  hard,  I  can  take  this  out  and  look 
at  it;  then  I  shall  be  strong  enough  to  endure  a  separation 
that   corrects   this.     Lizzie   shall   go   to   school,   Sydney." 

Uncle  went  from  California  to  Mexico  in  the  service 
of  the  company  that  first  employed  him,  and  is  now  in  a 
good  position  and  a  valued  employe.  I  think  that  he 
cherishes  some  secret  notion  of  sending  Lizzie  to  college, 
and  she  is  bright  and  ambitious  enough  to  make  it  well 
worth  his  while  to  give  her  such  an  opportunity. 

Midnight,  Otho  and  I  are  still  in  the  express  and  de- 
livery business.  Midnight's  fame  has  gone  abroad;  every- 
body knows  and  respects  the  beautiful,  wise  black  horse, 
and  more  than  one  has  tried  to  buy  him.  One  man  offered 
me  a  thousand  dollars  for  him;  he  wanted  him  for  a 
carriage  horse,  but  Midnight  and  I  are  satisfied  with  his 
career  just  as  it  is,  and  we  are  earning  money.  But  I 
could  not  have  purchased  the  bit  of  land  adjoining  town, 
the  first  practical  step  toward  the  establishment  of  the 
home  that  my  friend,  Victor  Arnold,  the  forest  ranger, 
talked  of,  had  it  not  been  for  the  money  that  Uncle 
Sumner  sent  in  payment  for  the  outfit  he  had  sold. 

THE  %  END 


